I'm leaving this morning for a business trip, and my brain is buzzing with crazy. I am nervous about the trip because I really, really, really want to be successful (which essentially means showing off a product my company can do for a client and convincing them to pay for it).
And I'm excited. I like to travel, even if it's for work, but I've got this silly hang-up about it too.
I am sad to leave Mr. J. In eight years we've been apart twice: once about six months after we started dating, for about three weeks. And late last year for a week.
I think I might go throw up now.