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.