Four-Thirty

At 4:30 this afternoon I was trying to work.

I really was trying to work.

I was also failing miserably.

A feeling had crept over me, you see, a feeling I have know for many years now, the sharp sting of anticipation, that precedes my every journey. A tingle over my skin, a chill, a readiness that makes my muscles tighten and taught, awaiting the plunge.

When I was younger, a lot younger, it was known to myself as "I'm-going-to-camp-today" feeling, it's very akin to "It's-Christmas-Day-today" feeling, and not at all conducive to getting any work done.

So, as of 4:30 today, I was totally failing at getting anything constructive done, and this is all because, tonight, I am going to Melbourne.