In my last post, I mentioned I had about a dozen things to wrap up. Oh, how I mock myself for this ludicrously optimistic statement. I have what seems like several thousand things to “wrap up”, all in a rather short space of time. In retrospect, it appears I have the organisational skills of a rather stupid fish. Despite having known about this move for several months, I seem to have left most of the actual arranging of things to the last available 3 days, thus making my life a logistical nightmare of spectacular proportion.
People keep asking me if I am excited. Interestingly, the answer is no. 3 months ago when the move was approved, I was excited. I suspect when I touch down in Newark (only airport in the world that is an anagram of “wanker”, as someone pointed out to me) I will be excited. But right now it has not sunk in and doesn’t feel real. What does feel real is the burgeoning pressure of meeting everyone I want to see before leaving, and the increasing urgency of terminating all contracts and ensuring that I have transportation for all my belongings.
I am not excited, nor am I worried. This is by far the easiest move psychologically which I have made since moving down the road to live in a student estate for the summer of 2001. I already know where I will stay for a whole month, I have already been to the city and done a lot of walking, not to mention getting the hang of public transportation. I already know how to get to my flat, my office, and how to actually do my work. In my head, this is by far less daunting than moving to London, aside from the fact that it is rather far away
What I am is merely incredibly, stressfully, busy.