11:31.

I pack luggage with systematic clinical effectiveness.

No, I have not changed my mind regarding Feb 5 (that's my new departure date for those of your who have not been reading).

Last week, I packed up all my books and papers for my aunty to take back to Singapore. This week, I packed my winter stuff, boots, track shoes, and some clothes into a standard sized hard luggage case for my parents and aunt to take back to Singapore.

Systematic is the word I keep using to describe my method and way, seeing how I make up my mind regarding items and utilise all the space in the luggage.

Packing is an emotional affair.

As dresses and shoes and papers and CDs, toiletries and perfumes and memorable items goes into a box, it's as if every memory and routine and ritual and emotion associated with them goes right in there along with that physical item.

So I suppose I experience a slight dissonance when I am so... systemic with packing when I don't even know where I would be after Feb.

Nothing is quite happening here in Melb on the job front yet. Am still praying and am going to send out more resumes and such after Tuesday, which is when my folks leave.

And that is another thing.

They are leaving on the 21st, which is my original departure date. And they booked that date because they were hoping to leave along with me.

I suppose it's characteristically nostagic of me. Just now, I glanced at the couch - which has been my bed for the last few nights except for one - and my head and heart went like, "Sigh, only two more nights on that".

[When I lay down on that couch, my legs - from knees down - dangle or stick out... no, the couch is not 1.7metres; I use the rug on the couch as a blanket, one couch side arm as pillow and hug a pillow to sleep]

Having three people in your room and three new people in your house does mean I don't get the personal space I am so used to and so cherish, me being me, but yet, I know when they leave on Tuesday, I will feel very alone.

I probably will cry.

On the skybus home from the airport, I would probably just be sad and think of how uncertain every thing is from then on, and wonder - and try to push away - thoughts of why I did not leave with them. When I get home, I would probably look at the couch and my room, pull the sheets off to wash, and as I walk around home, be reminded of when they were with me here. I would see my loved ones and the evidence of their stay here in the extra food in the fridge, the position of a chair, maybe a left behind item and yes, I probably will cry.

Sigh. And I would cry harder and more when I think about how I know my dad probably enter the departure gates with a heavy heart, at the fact that his daughter is not with him and won't be with him until Feb 5.

Dear Lord, keep us and bless us and make Your Face shine upon us.
For without You, I wither and we die.

I am holding on, trusting and walking on.

And I love my parents very much and I really want to honour them and make them happy.

They are the most beautiful people in the whole flippin' world.

Whole.

*hugs*