one last day

I'm sitting in my kitchen, in the same house I've lived in for 19 years (excepting those few recent years when I've considered college my current residence), and everything is pretty much normal. My dad fed our terrapin and got bit by our cat, my mom made her delicious croissant and sausage thingies and my brother loomed around the house for a while. But in a few days I'll be waking up in Cairo, Egypt and I won't really be back in this house for any length of time until December. Has it hit me yet? Nope. Am I totally prepared and/or packed? Absolutely not.

But am I excited? Hell yes.