I don't even know why I'm panicking.

Tomorrow. Airplane. London. Augh.
I'm in Google Images, looking at the interior shots of various Virgin Atlantic airplanes, because that's what we'll be flying on. Adam is reassuring me that Virgin planes are awesome and might possibly have multiple bathrooms. I'm used to flying on very small cramped airplanes, not these giants with possibly several bathrooms. This should be exciting. I don't feel excited yet. Part of me is howling. I have no idea what's wrong with me. It's a big fucking plane. It's going to London. This happens every day. Also, I will be in London.
I'm not really there to do touristy things or visit all the touristy landmarks; I'm there to see a rock concert and walk the streets of Kentish Town and drink in pubs with my best friends. I'm a mouse; I don't even know how far I'll want to go before I run back to the hotel. I don't know, I really don't know anything. I won't know until it happens; I hate that feeling. People keep telling me how much I'll enjoy it, that I should see this and that and the other, but all I can think about is cold and rain and snow and fog and also cold and my fingers losing circulation even through fleece gloves because Raynaud's Disease is a bitch and why the hell does this even matter? Shut up, Joanna.
Dear Jo: Be happy, damn you. You're going to London. With your very best friends. It will be fantastic and amazing and glorious and marvelous and magnificent and epic and don't be surprised if you see a blue police box in the middle of a street somewhere. Love, Jo.
Also, I don't know how much time I will have for internet. I don't expect much. It can all wait until Sunday anyway.

Also, I have Tangerine Dream's "London" running through my head. It's a long song.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N--XKSv9a34

Go Slow, Go Sweet

Panic is over. Now I just feel exhausted. And calm. I feel bizarrely calm.

As they say, it's all good.

Our cats are going to miss the hell out of us. I wish I could really reassure them that we'll be back before they know it. Human to feline translations have never run smoothly for me. They do love the sound and tone of my voice, though.

Right now, all I can think of is how glad I am to have packed that super healing moisturizing body balm, because I'm going to need it. London will be freezing, and winter weather is my nemesis. My skin goes insane with the xeroderma and sometimes the eczema and the ow it hurts. Never underestimate a really thick organic balm based in shea butter and cocoa butter and beeswax and tamanu and sea buckthorn and marshmallow extract.
(http://www.devorahnaturals.com/catalog/item/3872055/7383279.htm - yes, it says it's for pregnant bellies, but I've never listened to marketing in skin care; this stuff is amazing on the face and hands.)