Commence panic in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1
It’s here. It’s started.
I was able to stave off the panic until now. Only I didn’t plan very well, because with all of the “Hey, I don’t need to worry about that till next month” and the “I don’t need to get nervous until September” and “September 1st—that’s when I’ll start to worry,” I practically scheduled this stinking breakdown.
My fears are many, and varied. Let’s go through some of them, shall we? That way I can see the full scope of the thing and will end this post huddled in a ball under my desk, weeping.
The Getting Ready to Leave Fears
I won’t get to spend enough quality time with friends and family before I leave.
I won’t get to spend enough quality time with my precious niece Savannah before I leave, so my plan of making absolutely sure she remembers me a year from now will fail.
I will forget to tie up at least 12 loose ends.
I won’t be able to sell my car.
I will pack too much.
I will pack too little.
My roommates will get tired of me crashing on the couch, so they will turn me out. I won’t be able to stay at Savvymom’s on account of the hobo spiders, so I will probably have to sleep in my car for 3 weeks, which will result in back problems, only I won't have the money to see a chiropracter or massage therapist.
The Getting There Fears
I will miss my flights.
I will lose my luggage.
They will show crap movies on the plane, like “Dukes of Hazzard” or "The 40-Year Old Virgin."
My flight will crash over the Atlantic Ocean, and instead of dying on impact I’ll probably survive long enough to be eaten by sharks.
I won’t sleep on the airplane and will then fall asleep on the floor of the Heathrow terminal during the 3 hour wait for my shuttle and so I will miss the shuttle and have to stay in a hostel with druggies and rats.
The Being There Fears
My classes will be too hard.
Everyone will hate me.
My new ward will make me be the Primary chorister, and those kids will eat me alive.
My skin and hair will freak out and turn me into some sort of zit-faced Medusa.
My landlord will be an axe murderer who comes into my room and sits in a chair by my bed and watches me with glowing red eyes while I sleep.
I will wither away and die from cell phone withdrawal.
I’ll spend all my time blogging and will therefore fail all my classes.
I will never get an idea for a thesis, and the department will tell me to just go home, because they clearly made a mistake.
I will turn out to hate library science and libraries. And books. Maybe I'll hate them too, all of a sudden.
I will get crushingly homesick and will cry every night into my pillow.
I won’t get homesick, and won’t stay in touch with friends or family, so that when I come home they will all spit on the ground when they see me coming and will refuse to speak to me.
I won’t meet, fall in love with, and marry a handsome Brit, which means there's a life-long dream shot to pieces.
I will meet, fall in love with, and marry a handsome Brit, which will be a very stressful thing to deal with and plan. I mean, clearly it’s cheapest to do the thing in the US, but think of the pictures you could get in the UK! I don't even know what I'll do about that.
The What To Do When the Year is Over Fears
I’m putting this one off until August 1st 2006. Check back with me then, because I'll be huddled in a ball under an English desk, weeping.
I'm Steph, a librarian and mom of 3 (not sure how that happened). Let's chat books, food, Sumptuous Literary Adaptations, poop, knitting and maybe some crazy Mormon Feminism.
16 comments:
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God bless ye, little woman.
All I have to say is, if you DO turn out to be a zit-faced Medusa, at least you know a guy who can take care of the face problems for free when you get back--and you get super powers that way. So you've got that going for you.
Ohhhh . . . true point, Coop. Thanks for that!
1. You're spending quality time with me today, so that should be plenty.
2. Go get a glamour shot done of yourself and superglue it to the wall next to Savvy's bed.
3. Donate the car to the Kidney Foundation. It's tax deductible.
4. You will pack too much.
5. You will pack too little. Accept that.
6. You can always crash at my house. No hobo spiders. Just nervous boy/cheap cologne smell (read: aromatherapy). You can handle that. And when you get a backache from the forty-year-old mattress, I can give you a nice, calming massage. With aromatherapy.
So why didn't you talk to me in the first place? Things are looking up already, and that's only addressing the first list.
All the UK advice I can think of right now:
- If you're close to London, then you can attend the singles' ward "Brittania" at the Hyde Park chapel (next to the V&A), which means you can lead the regular choir instead of primary (easier to spot the hotties when you're up on the stand).
- Buy a Virgin cell phone when you get there. It's pay-as-you-go, their rates are really cheap, and you can text message everyone back home.
- Get all your US friends to dial 1019898 before calling you over there (so it would be 10109898 011 44 + area code (drop the zero) + phone number). The rates are really low (and sometimes even free!!) - since using it I haven't called the UK for more than $.02/minute. It works domestically too, btw. I call my mom for free all the time.
- Figure out if your US bank is really accessible (can you get cash?) while you're over there. If not, try and set up an account with HSBC while you're still here. It's nearly impossible to set up a bank account there if you're not native.
- Even non-drinkers are welcome in pubs (it's not the same as sitting in an American bar, AT ALL) and they're wonderful places to tuck yourself into a corner with a book. Stay away from "chain" pubs like the Slug and Lettuce or the Rat and Parrot - they're expensive and have horrible food.
- Don't freak out too much if you leave something behind. They have Costco!
- Travel is the only thing that's cheap. If you've always wanted to see the famous blahblahs of Whereeverville, keep a few hundred pounds saved up just for that. One of the high street travel agencies will eventually have a great special, and you'll be poised to swoop.
I know exactly how you feel, basically. I had September 1st as this magical date in my mind as to when I would start seriously stressing about not having a job. But I didn't fully realize that September 1st was the day until I found myself babbling late in the night on the phone to a friend about how I was going to get thrown out of my apartment and lose my car and my decent credit rating. And then I blogged about it. So September 1, not a good day all around.
I know this doesn't help, but you will do great, and you have a lot of real and virtual friends pulling for you. :)
Kelly is right. We are pulling for you. Everything will right itself. Unfortunately, I usually forget that and convince myself that worrying will get me further than anything else will. Hang in there. Most of your fears, while certainly legitimate, are probably not going to happen. Don't forget the nice, unexpected, pleasant surprises that will crop up along the way on this adventure. They'll likely serve as a "tender mercy of the Lord" spoken of by Elder Bednar.
Do you think your weather pixie will wear more modest clothing once she moves to England?
Awww . . . you guys are so nice.
Kelly--thanks for commiserating, and I know you'll find a great job. And if you don't, we'll start putting together a Get Kelly a Sugar Daddy plan.
Texmom--Bless you for humoring me by saying that my concerns are legitimate, since some of them involved my landlord turning into a vampire. And you're right. I'm sure lots of good things that I haven't even considered will happen.
aadr--Thanks so much for all the great tips! How do you know so much about living over there? As for the Brittania ward, I will be living up in the Midlands, so the commute may be too much for me. :-) I hear that there's a pretty active YSA group in my area though.
My panic has calmed somewhat, as I have been comforted by all of you and have updated my List of Destiny, detailing everything I still need to do.
Hiya,
I was there for about 18 months on a working/holiday-maker visa. I lived about 30 min from London (just outside the ring road). I don't know anything about the Midlands, so I have no good advice to offer there :(
You are going to love it. The Brits love creative, clever people and will obviously revere you. It'll be a bit awkward since they already have a queen, but she's been looking a bit peaky lately... cross fingers! :P
Your hair won't freak out - that happens when you move somewhere humid.
As for the niece: my friends put my photo on their fridge when I went overseas and reminded their 2 year old that it was me every once in a while. They also got her to draw me pictures, as she was too young for letters, and I occasionally sent stuff. On the rare occasion I managed to phone (sure NOW I'd call for free on the net, but at the time...) they would let me say hello and show her my photo while she was talking to me. After 3 years, she knew me on sight. (Point: provide non-Medusa like photos now!)
She of course was grown beyond recognition and had just started school, but anyway...
Not to be the bearer of bad news, but you probably will wither away and die from cell phone withdrawal. The world of no cell phones is a very scary place to go. I am wondering, hoever, if there is a solution. We will have to talk about this because I think that there might be.
Sweetie, it will be okay. As a person who went through the panic a month ago, I can tell you that it does get better. It's highly unlikely that your landlord will turn out to be a vampire. Also, the list of destiny is what got me through the, "WHATTHEHECKHAPPENEDTOMYLOANPAPERWORK" moments. Seriously. You're going to a) love it; b) be a fantastic student; and c) be the dang funniest girl in all of merry ol' England.
To add to Miss Hass's comment...
As long as you freeze your credit card in a block of ice in your freezer.
I studied library science for 18 months and I still don't hate books (I have an MLIS and everything). I don't even hate libriarians. If you have a passion for what you are doing, then you will do fine.
I just remember Britannia being really huge. They do dig American chicks though.
Whew! As long as people dig me. :-) Thanks, anonymous!
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