I've been here before, feet straddled across two countries. This time my left foot is rooted in Dublin as the right reaches across England, ready to slip itself inside the Boot.
This is the worst moment. Time crawls and the excitement of the new adventure is overshadowed by sadness and self-doubt. How could I leave this amazing city full of people who love me? How could I leave my perfect, cosy apartment a stone's throw from everything cool, including the best craft beer in Ireland and a huge park full of tame deer? How could I leave a job I enjoy where I'm treated and paid well? What am I doing?
Life has been full these past four years. I've felt contentment. I ran four half-marathons, lost weight, wrote 50 stories, saw good movies in beautiful cinemas, went to museums and comedy festivals, became a part-time vegetarian and cooked every day, went on holidays, and still saved money. I tell myself this list because there were steps backwards: I gained most of the weight back, watched too much TV, sat too much, and didn't make too many friends. I got soft. This is what happens when a nomad stays in one place too long.
To get over the anxiety of this next move and to make the time go a little faster, I'm trying to focus on my main goals for this next chapter:
1. Learn the Language. I've never formally studied the language of a foreign country I've lived in. We're not working for two months so as to study in a language school. Though I won't likely ever be proficient enough to discuss "The Divine Comedy", I would like to be able to say more than "Where's the toilet?"
2. Talk to People. People usually think I'm shy or aloof (or both), when really I have no qualms talking to others (it's what I do for a living) but I prefer having internal dialogues and my own company in general. If I'm going to achieve Goal 1, I'm going to have to be more extroverted.
3. Bin the Star Pants. I have two pairs of comfy pajama bottoms with a star pattern, a star-patterned robe and slippers. When these come on, the brain shuts off and there is no chance I'll be going outside. No star pants means no TV, no long stretches in cyberworld watching videos of goats and kittens. This next chapter is about Exploring. Learning. Doing.
4. Change my "Style". For the last five years, I've only bought clothes from charity shops (tops, because second hand pants? Gross). Cheap. Fewer choices to get overwhelmed by. Unique items. Money goes to a good cause and fewer clothes in the landfill. Now these clothes are stuffed into four large bags to re-enter the cycle. If I'm going to one of the fashion capitals of the world, I'd like to have a bit of style. I have no idea how that's going to manifest itself. But I hope I have a Pretty Woman moment in a shop.
At this moment, Wednesday morning 27 hours before my departure: I can't bear to go but I'm so ready to go. Limbo.
