Panic
Fortunately, this panic is not quite on the streets of London yet, rather, the panic I feel on the streets of Calgary as I imagine all the things left to do. Like fill that big empty suitcase in my apartment. And the 9 million things left to buy. But excitement is starting to edge out the frantic terror. Which is good.
I would do all my packing tomorrow night, but it's the Death Cab/Franz show which I've been waiting for for sometime. I discovered The Pants also has tickets, which we found out after we'd both bought our respective sets. She says if she sees me she'll glare and shake her fist at me. This is not an uncommon occurrance. So packing will happen after the show, which should be interesting.
28 hours. Sweet merciful crap.
I would do all my packing tomorrow night, but it's the Death Cab/Franz show which I've been waiting for for sometime. I discovered The Pants also has tickets, which we found out after we'd both bought our respective sets. She says if she sees me she'll glare and shake her fist at me. This is not an uncommon occurrance. So packing will happen after the show, which should be interesting.
28 hours. Sweet merciful crap.
posted by Sheila at
8:13 AM
2 Comments:
panic on the streets of carlisle... i'll hang that bloody dj.
sorry to invade your sanctuary, just wanted to tip the cap for the smiths reference.
By
David, at 3:58 PM
If you hang the DJ, then I'll for sure torch the disco...
This is hardly a sanctuary, but I'm glad for the invasion and that someone appreciates Smiths references. I believe they'd be lost on most of the readership.
By
Sheila, at 4:47 PM
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