Alright chaps, I confess, I’ve been holding out on you. There’s been huge, life changing stuff going on, which, along with the pressure of NaBloPoMo (OMG, the pressure [lifts hand dramatically to brow]), has been one reason why my thoughts are on pretty, shiny things and not much else.
- I am moving back to England next month, to take up a job in the UK office.
- I am moving on my own.
I have nothing to say on #2 beyond that bald fact, because it’s not something that requires public explanation. Except that if anyone is worried about me, don’t be. I’m holding it together, possibly with the aid of emotional sticky tape in a way that would make Blue Peter proud, and with red wine in a way they most certainly wouldn’t approve, but nevertheless: as we all know, Weebles wobble, but they don’t fall down.
On #1, I have a lot to say, but where to begin? It’s not a surprise, I think, that I want to go home. The job offer came up out seemingly out of nowhere, and it’s a good one. It’s going to be tough, stressful, exhausting and borderline impossible, all of which is fine by me and even equates to fun. The relocation itself is falling into place with surprising ease, because I’m moving into S’s spare room (Yay! Girl time!) until I find my own place, and I’m not taking anything with me beyond books, pictures, shoes and handbags. I’ll ship that stuff when I’ve got an address to ship it to. That’s all simple, a matter of making a list and crossing items off it as they get done.
And I’m looking forward to so many things I can barely keep track of them. I left England easily 6 years ago, yet it turns out that the roots were long enough to cross the Atlantic and exert a gentle, persistent pull. It will be a welcome home coming.
But. I’ve done this whole leaving a country thing once, so I know that it is going to be quietly devastating. By focusing on the planning and by looking ahead I can almost forget that. Almost. On a day to day level, it is inconceivable that the people who are now an integral part of my life will be so far away and hours out of sync. It makes no sense to me. At the same time, I am possessed by the feeling that time is running out, as indeed it is. I have a business trip that will take up one week out of the remaining three, leaving me with 13 US days until I move. I’ll be working most of them.
I won’t see everyone, say everything, do everything that I want to before I go, although I’ll try. Just in case, you guys know, right? That I love you, and I’ll miss you so very, very much? That my life is immeasurably the richer for your presence in it, and will remain so, even at a distance? I can only hope that the thousand social networking activities that the 21st century is heir to will come into their own yet again. And that you’ll visit.