My Last Night At The Hall

So, my belongs are virtually all packed, or shipped home, or waiting in my soon to be home and I'm sitting typing on the floor in what seems like a very empty white room. Strange is the word. I know I should be feeling sad or nostalgic or sentimental, but I'm not really feeling any of those things and I don't know if I'm just stuck in denial cos its easier than facing the enormity of saying goodbye to my home and family of the past 13 years or if its cos I'm thinking of too many other things that still need to be done or if I'm just ready to go. I dunno. It does seem odd that I've felt so sad over so many other people who have left in the past and yet here I am leaving myself and not feeling very much at all. Or maybe its just all too inconceivable to imagine that its really over and I won't realise what I've done for another month or so. Maybe its a mixture of them all. I am dreading the goodbyes in the morning tho, so maybe the floodgates will finally open when I'm faced with the reality of parting - we'll see.