the ending of this ending

A bunch of "last"s lately: last night out in SF, last family dinner, last spin class. Last dinner tonight: sushi. I don't know how many Japanese Jews there are, opening restaurants in Israel, so I've got to get it in now. I've also been saying goodbyes, which is weird and I refuse to really go there.

I also did my last laundry. And oh my, what an experience. There was this old guy there, blasting his boom box, talking and muttering to himself. I tried just to avoid getting too close or making eye contact. And then, I noticed another man sleeping across several plastic chairs. All of a sudden he sits up, staggers over and starting down the aisle where I was loading my clothes with this crazy glazed-over look in his eyes. He stands there for a moment, stumbles back over to his stuff, puts a hat on, and staggers outside. Because really, it would be a shame for him to leave his hat behind.

So I think I'm going to actually fit everything into my bags!!! But now I'm paranoid that the airline will take one look at them and tell me that they're way to big to put on the plane. There's always something else to worry about, isn't there?