I’m just going to say it now: things are probably going to get more erratic from here on out. And there will probably be some ranting and raving. Hopefully I will make it out the other side with some semblance of sanity.
Now that I have a definite date, I can feel the stress of the move building. Everyday the vague sense of doom gets just a little stronger. It lurks at the back of my mind and in unguarded moments I have flickers of panic. At some point I am sure it will devolve into full blown panic.
I’ve done big stressful moves before. I moved across the country to live in sin with the Boy-who-became-Mister, and I had no idea if it would work out or not. This is much worse. Moving across a huge ocean to an entirely different continent? Where I don’t even speak the language? With two cats? And I agreed to this because I wanted to do this? I might have been misguided.
You’ll love it. I bet they speak lots of English. The cats will survive and only hate you a little bit. (Because they are cats. Hate is natural.) And you can always ask me questions.
Travel light, travel light, travel light. Literally, figuratively, in every way. Don’t go with expectations, because it is not what you think, whatever you think. Be open to that, because it goes both ways: there will be things better than you think and things worse. On tough days, let loose and open up even more. On good days, let loose and open up even more. What looks really strange and foreign is not really. What looks really familiar is not really.
Those steamed cheesecake flavor buns don’t look like much but are unbelievably delicious.
They DO NOT speak “lots of English”, by the way. Prepare yourself for that.
One year? That’s nothing! Don’t be afraid.