the storm before the calm

just had the holy shit scared out of me. upon procuring cigarettes at the friendly plaid pantry i realized that my fucking driver's license was missing. i am supposed to be on a plane in 14 hours and driving a rental car in 17, not to mention my vehicle idling in the parking lot. the last place i recall using my id was the online coffee joint on saturday. i drove there in a fucking panic, through almost-snow (yes, it is currently trying to snow in seattle, on the first day of spring), trying to imagine how i would manage any of this without an id. i walked in and the girl at the counter greeted me with "hey, you left your id here." i very nearly kissed her. instead i started laughing and babbling about how she "saved my ass" and all sorts of other inarticulate things. "i have to be on a plane tomorrow and i got off work early and there's no way i would have made it up here in time otherwise and i just realized it was missing" i gushed idiotically. she smiled politely and made me some tea.
"here today, gone tomorrow, so don't get attached to things," as maude said.
my pulse is still racing. oh yes, and i started my period. again. i am probably anemic from the fucking iud. and i rudely boxed an suv in whilst parking here. but i have my id, and currently that is all that matters.
work was gruesomely slow, hence the early departure. we were overstaffed; i was a specialist tech with no specialist procedures. there was a splint change and a csf tap; after that it was myself and a bunch of similarly frenetic techs, all hopped up on sugar and singing along to ac/dc. my neighbors will be checking on the beasts in my absence. it will be hard to leave them. it is rather hard to leave in general. perhaps i am slightly agoraphobic, or overly appreciative of my own space, or both. coming home tonight through dusky crappy weather, the city glowing ethereally, the lair warm and quiet with that familiar my-house smell, the plants sillouheted against the lights outside, i felt similar to holding someone close and knowing i never would again. so i left. romanticism, be it of objects or people, makes me depressed and uncomfortable.
*
that said, i miss him. the champagne is not yet drunk. time and schedules have not yet allowed. i fretted for the last few days over taking him up on his offer to watch the cats. in the end, obviously, i declined. i don't want that hanging over me while i'm back in my old turf, pretending to be frivolous and free. this is admittedly immature. i remind myself that i am under no obligations. instincts are always correct. i hope.
i am terrified that anchorage will be a gloomy clusterfuck, that i will not be able to relate to her at all, that i will be freezing cold and wanting to leave, that nothing will have changed. and i am equally terrified that everything will be so fucking amazing that i will never want to go, and yet i'll have to, and the entire experience will illustrate how vapid my seattle existence really is. hopefully i am incorrect on both accounts and i can expect 4 days of nothin' special.
what i really need to do is get out of my fucking head. i have the ability to fuck this all up monumentally if i so desire, purely by neurosis.