Going out on top

Is anyone else as sickly giddy as I am about tomorrow night? I'm talking about BSG, people, as if there's any other point to the universe right now. Tomorrow night is finis, the end, all done, bye bye. Holy frak. I cannot take the waiting, but I also can't take the knowing it's over, over, really over. I mean, they could make like X-Files or any of a million dozen shows who overstayed their welcome -- lose the best writers, replace a producer or three, chug along painfully and half-assedly without the marquee stars, wringing the last drop of cash out of their preciousss for another two or three or five limp-dicked seasons while viewership falls away and the memory of the good years becomes more and more tarnished -- but they're doing the heroic thing and quitting while they're ahead. Gods bless them. Gods damn them. GALACTICA!