Transfer is tomorrow.
I don't want to go. I feel like a little kid waiting for the wooden spoon to come down hard on my bare bottom; dreading it and wincing in advance of the pain. I don't want this to fail. If it does, that's it, no more chances for at least three years. There's so much riding on this transfer tomorrow and I've been so good about not caring up until now. Or at least pushing it out of my mind. But now I think about it (and I can't stop thinking about it) and just want to cry.