SO. I’m officially living in England! It took about six absolutely torturous weeks, but I finally got visa approval. I was in line on a Monday morning, pushing a stroller full of Fiece #2, waiting to buy tickets for Disneyland, when I got an email with the subject line: “Your UK Visa has been issued.” After all that time feeling crazy, being crazy, not sleeping or eating or being myself, all of the stress and anxiety melted away in an instant – and then I got to spend the entire day at Disneyland with some of my favorite people in the world. It was an okay day.
I booked a flight five days in advance and spent the week frantically saying goodbye to everyone I know and love. Some goodbyes were harder than others.
By Sunday morning, I landed in London. Monday morning, I started work. I have been going at the speed of light ever since. This new world frightens and confuses me. I have destroyed food in the microwave (which also has an oven setting and a CHAOS button), tried to pay for food in Euros (for shame), been outsmarted by every door and lock I’ve come across, been asked to repeat myself daily, almost been killed crossing the street, and run the shower completely out of water until an alarm sounded and all the gears started grinding. And that’s saying nothing about all the stupid things I’ve done at my job thus far. It’s been two weeks of the steepest learning curve I’ve ever experienced.
However. It is also the biggest, bravest, most incredible thing I have ever done with my life, and it’s only just begun. I could not be happier. Could not. There have been several times – like when I’m spending my lunch hour eating massive steak fries with tomato soup by a roaring fire at a local pub with people I adore – that I cannot believe this is my life. That I made this happen for myself. I would never have expected any of this for me. I guess that means I should have higher expectations from now on.
Anything is possible, people. Trust.