The last sleep..

I think I finally staggered up the stairs to bed at 2:30am, feeling pretty confident that I had packed everything I would need to keep me reasonably sane for the first few months. I suppose it wasn’t quite sleeping more lying in bed restfully with my brain whirring about the imminent adventure.
My alarm went off at 5:10am, I dragged myself out of bed, threw some make up in the general direction of my face whilst JJ loaded the car with my extremely overweight luggage. A very gentle ‘Time to go Noush’ is called from downstairs, I try to say goodbye to Duchess and she runs away, this makes me feel a bit sad, but she knows something is going on.
I climb into the car and when I see it has already got to 5:50am I freak out, my coach (What? Coaches are easy, go to sleep, wake up at airport) is at 6am, and although it doesn’t take 10 minutes to drive there, and there is another one, and if worst came to worst JJ could drive me, I am still panicking.
A lot of people have looked sadly at me when I have said I didn’t want anyone to take me to the airport, but I have seen those people, being waved off by their families, wailing and gibbering at security, and it almost brings me to tears when I see it. I fear that I would have been completely floored if it was people from my life seeing me off, so I chose a quiet singular departure. It’s just a business trip right, a really long business trip….
The coach is sat in it’s bay fully loaded, JJ pulls up in front so it can’t leave; a skillful move perfected by my mother used for stopping the last bus into Bedford when Alicks (or Catface as some of you will know her) and I were youths.
JJ puts my luggage on, mainly so the coach driver doesn’t feel how overweight it is, there is no time for any tearful hysteria, then I am waving goodbye with slightly leaky eyes, soon I am sound asleep.

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