in which it is decided:
Tickets bought.
We land in LA on October 12. I'll spend a week on the west coast with the family (I want to see the trees in Yosemite and sulphuroxide) and then I'll take a red-eye to New York while they continue their vacation up to SF and back to LA. Probably Vegas. They'll probably visit Vegas.
So it's real. I have ten weeks left in Manila, which will be spent vacillating between numb work and high anxiety.
A safety hatch: because round-trip tickets are cheaper than one-ways, I'm booked on an LAX-MNL flight on October 31.
I may or may not be on it. I don't know what the chances are, or what this decision depends on.
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You once said to me I wouldn't leave for America with bad blood between us. Are you reading this? Are you eating your words? Do they taste as good as we used to be?
I hope so. Have a nice life.