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Don't Forget to Breathe

This move thing has been an amorphous blob on the horizon of my future for awhile now, but I guess it's really going to happen. I got a work visa application from UK HR yesterday and had to fill out questions justifying the transfer. I felt like I was answering an RFP about myself. Movers came this morning to take inventory and give us an idea what's involved with packing up and shipping our stuff across the pond. The Jeep is up for sale (very good insider price if you're interested). The kitties have been injected with microchips (quelle Alias) and are waiting another 5.5 months till they can be shipped over, which Larry's employer is taking care of. Anybody want to foster a couple charming cats for 4-5 months?

It's still all so surreal to me, and I think I'm in some sort of detached denial about the whole thing. There is still no "move date," but things are definetly progressing. I still say I'll believe it when I'm getting mail there and am sleeping in my own bed in a new flat. Will London be livable without room service?

I just want it to be done with, but I don't want to deal with any of the moving or saying so long stuff. Fortunatley, I guess, I've never been so swamped with work, so everything else seems to be taking a back seat. There's just too much to get done, both in my work world and my personal world. Would it be too much to just go to sleep, get shipped over, and wake up with everything done for me? Kinda like when Sigourney Weaver got shipped into outer space, but without the drooly monster with nasty teeth?

In the meantime, I'm trying, with varied rates of success, not to stress. Trying to enjoy the ride and take it all in. And take account of the simple pleasures ... like the dish of candy corn in the office around the corner, and the pefectly delicious fall days that we've had here lately. And knowing that, after as of 6pm today, I won't have to have any more root planing done for a good long while. Had quadrant 2 done yesterday and am sucking it up and having quadrants 3 and 4 done this afternoon. Joy. Rapture.

Off to Toronto and London (Ontario) tomorrow for Canadian Thanksgiving, and to go through the first round of family farewells. This is all so friggin' weird.

One thing I can tell you I'm not going to miss ... the check-out hags at Duane Reade. I've had to go there twice in two days and they are H-A-T-E-F-U-L. Please send them to outer space ... with the Alien.