I am a month away from The Return. The anxiety is starting to fill me up and pull me out of shape. When I stop doing what makes my hands and head busy, a picture of what I do on the Last Day pops into my mind.
On the Last Day I will count the luggage one two three four and the kids one two three and me one and then I'll do it all again, like some horror dumb show. I'll carry on doing that, repeating it all, because I don't want to go through the actions that come next.
But I shall make sure that it is all hilarious and funny, like the cutting of arms or the retching into a toilet bowl.