Yesterday was my last 8am meeting, and probably my last time going to the gym near work. Today might have been the last time I'll have to make my lunch in the morning. Going-away lunch with my department tomorrow. Monday's my actual last day.
This is a strange transitional time. Almost everything I need to do is done. I still have meetings to attend and some housekeeping chores, but I'm not really responsible for anything any more. I'm not quite done here, and not quite started there.
I have so much on my to-do list for when I'm done here it isn't funny. Writing, of course, of which I have hardly done any in the last 8 weeks. I don't entertain any fantasies about eight-hour writing days and octupling my former productivity -- I've heard enough from other writers who have gone full-time that life expands to fill much of the time that the day job used to, and I don't even intend to try to write full-time. But I do hope to improve my productivity somewhat, maybe even enough to do some short stories as well as finishing my second novel by early next year. I also have a lot of major non-writing projects in mind, like upgrading our six-year-old computer and twelve-year-old entertainment center. And we'll be traveling a lot: Ashland, Seattle, and Saratoga (NY) in October alone. And Kate wants to re-do the bathroom.
::rubs hands:: This is going to be fun.