A River in Egypt

Sorry for the truly rubbish pun. But I am in total denial about my imminent departure.

Which is all fine until people ask 'so when are you heading off to LA?' Or ' Are you ready for the big move?' That's a bit of a downer, particularly if at that exact time one is trying as hard as possible to live in the moment by drunkenly showing off some terrible dance moves to 99 Problems. In a strapless, floor-length bridesmaid's dress. As one does.

And there are a lot of things going on in the next couple of weeks that I really want to immerse myself in, without having any more major 'I'm-moving-halfway-across-the-world-leaving-friends-and-family-behind-I'm-going-to-miss-out-on-so-much' style freakouts than strictly necessary.

So in no particular order, these are the things I've got lined up before I leave:

 - Another wedding, this time in the beautiful countryside where I grew up

 - A last-minute Eurostar trip to Holland to catch up with the newlywed S+R

 - The craziness that is the royal wedding (I'm on sleb-spotting duty outside the back of Westminster Abbey)

 - A hen-do for one of my oldest and bestest friends, whose wedding I'm gutted to be missing

 - Meeting my baby sister's boyfriend for the first time (she - for some inexplicable reason - fears I will judge him, so has avoided the big meet-up for almost a year)

 - Hanging out with the 'rents, and going to see my grandma, who is pretty frail, in hospital

And at some point (preferably before my mum arrives to pick all my stuff up) I should probably start to pack... maybe. And spend some quality time with my lovely dogs. And my lovely housemates.

I know that if I stop for a second to really consider how scary this move is, I'm going to panic. And then I might not even be able to force myself onto the plane, let alone behave in a vaguely normal fashion until I go.

So denial will continue to be my modus operandi for the time being.