She's Got A Ticket . . .

Indulge me as I make a timeline - I feel the need for that kind of perspective on the eve of my Big Scary Trip.

March 04: first baby born
March 05: writing starts in earnest
Sept 05: sign with first agent
Sept 06: part ways with first agent
Nov 06: take part in NaNoWriMo, starting the book that has since become The Girl You Think I Am
Dec 06: second baby born
March 08: sign with second agent
April 08: emigrate
August 08: receive offer of publication
April 09: I can't believe I'm sitting here, in Melbourne, after a pretty standard day in the sun - supermarket, housework, playdate - while The Australian swipes at the telly (Wii Tennis) while running back and forth to the stove, where pasta is on the boil, on the evening before I'm due to fly to London - all by myself! - for the trade launch of my book. It's bonkers.

Since the success of the Sydney weekend, when I discovered that the children do not spontaneously combust when I leave them (flaming cheek), I've been feeling quite calm about the trip.

But that's all over.

I'm so churned up I don't know what to do with myself. I keep swerving wildly between:
1. panicking about being without the children (just little things like: what if the plane crashes? should I leave them a video-diary telling them how much I love them? I know...I know what this all sounds like - I'm flying cheap but it's not Air Kamikaze. It's such a very long way, though).
2. panicking about making huge blunders during the big scary party (what if I accidentally drink too much wine and talk an incredible amount of poop and end up being snapped sprawled in the gutter for the front page of The Bookseller?).

At the same time, I'm so thrilled to have this moment, I could grab a microphone and do a Leona Lewis ballad. I'm thinking: ooh, I wonder if the flight attendants will sense I'm a soon-to-be-published woman and upgrade me. I wonder if people will roar with laughter as I read from my book at the party (nb. there will be a special slot for me to do this - I wasn't just gonna whip it out mid-conversation). I wonder if I will really, really like being away by myself...etc.

I thought I was going to be able to say some very profound things about this whole business - maybe I'll get more coherent after the event. You can only hope.

Until then...