It's like my liver is, somehow unconsciously, being prepared for the eventual onslaught of alcohol in the following weeks. Since the previous weekend, I have been drinking alcohol in quantities that have not been seen for quite some time. My excuse is that, "I'm leaving so it's party time in Sydney Central!" but I think I'm secretly desensitising my body to the many wonderful (and un-wonderful) effects of good old R-OH. The last thing I want is to be seen as a 120-pound weakling by my friends back home.

Le sigh, the measures I go to, to keep on-side with them.

Anyway, the countdown begins, I guess. I have my visa, my bags and my plane ticket. All I need is for the 14th of September to hurry down in two shakes of a lamb's tail (been watching Pulp Fiction..too much) so that I can board the MAS carrier and be homeward bound.

MAS, because I'm patriotic like that.