The final countdown: 8 days to takeoff

I woke up this morning to the gentle patter of rain against my bedroom window. The weather app says it's 17°C and cloudy outside, but I can see hints of blue sky breaking through. According to the forecast, we'll have some showers this morning before things clear up a bit this afternoon. Typical Kristiansand August weather – can't make up its mind.

It's strange how aware I've become of these details now that I'm counting down the days. Eight more mornings of waking up in this bed. Eight more chances to look out at this view. Eight more days of knowing exactly where everything is.

I've been spending the morning organizing my digital life – backing up photos, sorting documents, making sure everything important is safely stored in the cloud. It's the IT specialist in me, I suppose. Can't help but triple-check my systems before a major update. And this is definitely a major life update: version Ruben 5.0.

My coffee tastes particularly good today. I've decided to pack 500 grams of beans rather than the 900 I was considering yesterday. It was a tough decision, but every gram counts when you're living out of a backpack for 500 days. I'll make these beans last until Amsterdam at least, then find something local. Though I doubt anything will compare to a proper Norwegian brew.

I've been making lists all morning:

  • Things to cancel (newspaper subscription, gym membership)
  • People to say goodbye to (still need to schedule coffee with Marte from work)
  • Final errands (need new shoelaces for my hiking boots)

It's funny how a life of 49 years can be reduced to bullet points and checkboxes. Yet there's something satisfying about it too. Each completed task brings me one step closer to departure.

The hospital IT department sent me a nice email this morning. They've already hired my temporary replacement – some young guy from Oslo who apparently specializes in security systems. I hope he doesn't reorganize my filing system too much. I spent years getting it just right.

I keep wondering if I'm forgetting something important. Is there some crucial document I've overlooked? Some vital piece of equipment I should be packing? The anxiety comes in waves, but I remind myself that almost anything can be replaced or purchased along the way. Except time. Those 500 days are the one resource I can't replenish.

The rain has stopped now, and I can see patches of blue sky expanding. The forecast says it will be partly sunny by early afternoon. Perhaps I'll take a walk down to the harbor later – one of my favorite spots in Kristiansand. I want to memorize the way the light hits the water, the sound of the boats knocking gently against the docks, the smell of salt air mixed with fish and coffee from the cafés.

Eight days. 192 hours. 11,520 minutes.

The countdown continues.