Friday, February 15, 2008


I'm heading out to London today for a week. Partially to actually get some on the ground work done and partially to get some on the ground life things (like find a place to live) taken care of.

I then come back to the US for a week and then officially 'leave' on Friday, February 29. T-minus 14 days and counting. It's a day that only comes once every four years, and it somehow seems appropriate that it's the day I'm leaving.

But, for some reason, this time left (or rather, lack of time) in Seattle *really* didn't hit me until yesterday afternoon at work at about 5p. Then, for some reason, while I was printing out some of my travel documents, it suddenly was an "oh, shit" moment. Oh, shit: I'm hoping a plane tomorrow & don't know what time my flight is, where my hotel is, haven't considered what I'm packing, haven't thought about any of the details.

I got all of this taken care of, but when I got home, I had yet another "oh, shit" moment. Oh, shit: I'm packing up my life in two weeks to move to London and still have a dozen opened bottles of condiments in my refrigerator, I haven't even begun to weed thru my clothes to figure out what I'm going to take & what I'm going to leave behind, I haven't touched base again with the Saturn dealer to ensure that they'll buy my car from me before I leave.

And the biggest oh shit: Oh shit, what if the movers really decide not to pack up the things I'm not taking to London and I'm suddenly stuck packing until 3am the night before I leave. And, am I going to be packing 5 boxes or 50? It's almost too much to think about.

Everywhere I looked in my condo last nite was an oh, shit moment. I thought I was stressed before, and now I'm really stressed. I knew this would happen, and it had been building, but I didn't expect the sudden stress level to go from 7 to 10 in literally just a matter of minutes yesterday. It was very unexpected. And, I don't like it. I had intentionally been trying to plan and think about things so that I could expressly avoid something like this. And mother fucker, if it didn't happen anyhow.

It's the unknown that's doing this to me. Largely because I still don't know what I'll be living in (beyond the corp housing) when I live there. Do I need furniture or not? If I need furniture, do I need to bring all of mine? If I bring all of mine, will it even fit? What about plates, cups, utensils?....

At the very least, even if I don't have *the exact* flat picked out by this time next week, I hope to at least have a better grip on the situation.

And, the stress.

No comments:

Post a Comment