Bee. Bzzz.
Oh my god. The last few days have been crazy. I had a party. Lots of people came. They all got drunk and watched me hurtle around in an insane parody of a social butterfly, except that I slopped more wine than an elegant society belle would do. And I may have had dirtier feet.
Then on Sunday we went punting. 
This is why I love Cambridge. It’s stunningly beautiful, compact and easy to manage, has great pubs, and the most civilised form of Sunday afternoon entertainment on the planet.
Anyway, now I’m getting a bit panicky. I’ve got loads of work still left to do this week, and not much time to do it. The BF keeps telling me not to panic, and I keep trying to persuade him that the prospect of disappearing off to Namibia with a negative bank balance is not my idea of a good time. However, this might actually end up being the case, the way things are going at the moment.
Also, I have not yet had my Criminal Records Bureau check through, without which it is somewhat doubtful that I will be allowed past customs at Windhoek airport. Neither have I had any flight tickets, and my placement adviser seems utterly clueless as to what to do, and just keeps telling me not to panic.
So, five days to go. No packing. No visa. No tickets. No money. No sanity.
Oh well. Back to work.