Time to get up and go

It's that feeling of being right on the edge of a cliff and suddenly realizing how close you are to the edge and how much space separates you and the bottom.

On one hand, it's exciting. On the other hand, I'm hesitant to leave. These last few weeks I've been cherishing the stuff I know I will miss. My showers have been extra hot and extra long. I've eaten at all my favorite restaurants and monched down on all my mom's best dishes.

This morning I woke up and met Mark and some other guys at Stumptown coffee and rode for a few hours. Light overcast and colder than a witch's titty; even started snowing a tiny bit. This will be the first winter I haven't been in focused training-mode for more than 9 years. Feels a little weird.

Just got Daddio's 5-minute-till-bus-is-leaving-call from upstairs. We're driving up to Seattle: they'll drop me off tonight, Emma and I will spend the day packing tomorrow, and we board Tuesday.

I will be reading math on the plane. We are going to a 3 day math workshop in Dunedin. It's a mathematical biology thing; doctors bring some problems and the professors and students who come try their best to come up with a solution. A little cramming, a little math with some nerds, and then the trailhead.

I do regret how little I hung out with people this last month or so. I got to play Halo, which was awesome, but I've been programming to the point of carpal tunnel, finger tips calloused from coding. I've been really focused on finishing what I said would do, finishing what is allowing me to bounce out of here and explore. Mom and Dad have been super supportive as always. Everything else is taken care of so that I can devote myself entirely to the task. Last year it was training. This year it was coding. My eyes are bloodshot from lines of C#.

Getting on that plane I'll have a big sigh of relief. And then I'll realize I'm in for a big, frickin' adventure. Here goes nothing.