Please Don't Make Me Go

These last few weeks have been filled with co-workers and patients extending goodbyes as my upcoming adventure looms.  I have given out about 1 million hugs, shed 2 million tears, and have consumed three tons of treats dropped off in my office by well wishers.  

Since today is Tuesday, mom, Bubba and I usually go to lunch together.  On my way to mom's, one of my well wishers sent a sweet pic of her last two babies I have delivered.  Incidentally, both births were memorable and lovely.  I started blubbering like a baby, thinking about all the lovely people and Tuesday lunches I'd miss in Rhode Island.  Thankfully, my mom's sentimental heart is pea sized, because when I pulled up to her house, she saw me through the window and flipped me off.  That Christlike action enabled me to pull it together long enough to eat lunch.

And yes, after three days of regular heart beats, I'm back on the sauce.  I'm disgusting.

After lunch was over, I fiddled around with some last minute cleanup and found myself doing this:

Jared and the girls were somewhat saddened and surprised by the scene, despite the three month notice they've had.  I don't blame them, my sentiments match theirs exactly.  I'm trying to remember that I'm a grown woman with courage and a huge sense of adventure, but to be honest, my cajones feel pretty shriveled right now.  Wonder if mom could come over and flip a few birds to help me keep myself together...