I’m kind of distraught.  I’m not going to lie.  As of now it is 3:30 P.M. on Thursday afternoon… our bus for the airport leaves at 5:00 A.M. and the plane leaves in mid-morning for Heathrow.  I am packed.  My room looks very empty… very sad.  I have a bag full of stuff for Jay-Z (who is staying another semester) and only my computer to pack away, basically.  We have an all-night party at the Arcadia Center that begins at 8:30 tonight… our professors are all going to be there, too.  One final hoorah.

I already found out my grade for my sociology class… A.  So at least that’s a good note to leave on.  It was pouring this morning… absolutely pouring.  I was convinced Greece was crying, basically, seeing us go.  I had my last koulouria bread ring for lunch and have basically wiped my refrigerator clean of food.  New podcasts are uploaded to my iPod and ready for the long flight home…

I think we’re going to try and watch the sun go down from a rock next to the Parthenon.  Then the goodbyes will begin.  It’s a bittersweet feeling… happy-sad as Brendan and I used to say.

I need to cry.  I keep listening to sad music and feel the tears coming, but they never actually fall.  I know I just need to sit down somewhere and cry for a really long time.  I have a feeling that will make me feel better.

I am excited to go home, but I am extremely sad to leave.