September 10 is our departure date

and I'm not counting down. I have to go to my calendar and count days to see that it’s... 24 days away. I should be counting down. I’m excited, I'm tired of living in other people’s houses, I haven’t had a workstation in six weeks and I haven’t had a computer of my own in a week and a half. I should be counting down.

I feel guilty that I don’t know the countdown at any given moment, as though that means that I am not sure we should be taking off.

Well, I am excited, and I won’t count down.

I remembered one of my most embarrassing moments this morning. I was running a television camera at a large church on Mother’s day. I skipped breakfast and halfway through the service I passed out on the lap of some poor lady.
What’s strange is that I remember when I woke up there was a circle of faces over me and someone was wondering if they should loosen my tie because it was tied so beautifully. I have never thought about how unlikely that comment was until this morning, and now I wonder if someone actually said it, or if I’ve fabricated that part of the story and stored it as an actual memory.
It was a very good knot, though.