A Night of "Lasts"

Tonight is my last night in the United States until April (when I'll return for my brother's wedding).
I'm only just now stopping to think of that--of how long it'll be until I sleep in my bed again or how long it'll be until I run out of my house in my bare feet, checking to see if I forgot to get the mail. It's kind of sad. Let me rephrase that: it's very sad.
After I had coffee with one set of friends and dinner with another set (one of the friends in this latter group gave me a card her boyfriend had signed. He thought he'd written "Remember to shave your armpits" in French, but he accidentally wrote, "I love the smell of your armpits." Funny how these mistakes happen. Maybe this is a Freudian slip!), I found myself driving around the north side of Indianapolis, reliving the last 6 months of my life. It was strange doing this, pathetic even...
"Here's where I ran over the nail on my bike and was late for work" or "Here's the park where I found that pair of men's underwear" or "Here's the street pole where I found that man's wallet last summer" or even more significantly, "Here's the intersection where I decided to call the police after finding that man's wallet" and still more significantly "Here's the stretch of road I was driving when it occured to me that if the police found the wallet on me before I had the chance to call them, they'd probably assume I'd murdered the man and stolen his wallet."
Awww...sweet memories.
And now, I'm home from the Drive of Nostalgia. I'm attempting not to sleep much tonight, because I mildly hate flying and would really like to be able to sleep the entire flight, so there's laundry to do. There are two suitcases to pack, unpack, and repack. And of course, there's that slim possibility that I'll jump ship and sleep the rest of the night. We shall see...we shall see...
In the meantime, good night.
This was a short countdown, but we might as well finish strong:
1 day.