the end?

I hate saying goodbye. I do it all the time, and it's rare that a
goodbye is permanent, but I dislike it all the same. It's 5:20, and
I'm trying to make all the rounds in the office before running out of
this place for the last time this summer. Then it's off to an
interview/conversation, then dinner with friends. And then two more
days to feel like I'm fully prepared to leave the country. As much as
I look forward to the friends and family and familiarity of home...and
escaping certain things I've grown increasingly intolerant of
here...I'm still a giant ball of emotional turmoil. That's a familiar
feeling though, and I'm trying to embrace it.

Gah, what am I doing. There's an office full of people trying to go
home on Friday afternoon, and I have to give them all one last awkward
handshake-hug combo...