The August 1st Panic

Some of you may remember that September 1st, 2005 was the date I scheduled to start panicking about England. I also said that you could check back with me on August 1st, 2006, when I will start panicking about the End of England.

Well. Here we are. Only the thing is, I'm not panicking. I should be, of course. The sane and normal thing to do would be to crawl under my desk and never come out, because let's look at the facts:

I have about 6 weeks to write, bind, and turn in a master's thesis, visit Prague, pack, get rid of the stuff I'm not taking home, say goodbye to everyone, tie up loose ends, and get on a plane. And then I will need to look nice for the wedding pictures, even though I will probaby resemble some insane wild-eyed thing dredged up from the bottom of a swamp by then. Then I will recover at my parents' house in butt-freezing Alaska while I send out job applications until I can find a library job in Utah or wherever is hiring.

So yes. I should be a whimpering, jelly-like mass rocking in the corner cackling softly to myself. Only I think possibly Heavenly Father has been teaching me some good lessons about worrying and why we shouldn't do it. First off, it's pointless. Secondly, we don't actually know what we're talking about. We only see so much, and the things we dread might not even be issues anymore by the time we get there. This has definitely been true for me in the last few months. At this point, even though I am anxious about the dissertation and the sleepless nights that I'm letting myself in for by procrastinating, I actually have a pretty good feeling of peace and well-being. Things will work out.

Just for fun, I thought I would tackle the list of worries I had about coming to England and see how close to the mark I was. Ready?

The Being There Fears

My classes will be too hard. They weren't.

Everyone will hate me. They didn't. I've made some fabulous friends, and random people in the street show me their boobs as if I'm some kind of mammogram technician, that's how popular I am.

My new ward will make me be the Primary chorister, and those kids will eat me alive. Close--they called me to nursery instead, and the kids are actually quite sweet. Also, have loved my ward here. I'm going to miss it alot.

My skin and hair will freak out and turn me into some sort of zit-faced Medusa. The reverse has been true. At this precise moment in time, my skin and hair have never been better. It's all going to go to crap though once I start changing climates. I know and begrudgingly accept this.

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 never caught her at this. Lady J and I have gotten on really well together, I think. She's been helpful and friendly without ever being intrusive or pushy. She is great about suggesting places for me to visit and even taking me to see some of them. Also she cooks traditional English foods and shares them with me. Of course, it could be that I've been driving her insane all year long, but if so then she hasn't said anything.

I will wither away and die from cell phone withdrawal. Hah! Foiled that one by getting a mobile after about a week. Also was introduced to Skype. And Gtalk. Have never felt so alive.

I’ll spend all my time blogging and will therefore fail all my classes. Well . . . I had a point there. Also I'm not out of the woods yet. But I can't give up the blogging!

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. Finally did get an idea, and it kicks trash.

I will turn out to hate library science and libraries. And books. Maybe I'll hate them too, all of a sudden. Nope. Still love books, and discovered to my shock and surprise that even things like cataloging and classification turn me on a little bit.

I will get crushingly homesick and will cry every night into my pillow. Never happened. I will probably end up crying for England and its chocolate and baby lambs before long, though.

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. Um, we're okay there, right? Right??? PLEASE TELL ME WE'RE OKAY!!!

I won’t meet, fall in love with, and marry a handsome Brit, which means there's a life-long dream shot to pieces. Two out of three, people. Not too shabby!

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. And there you have the additional bonus of the two-out-of-three scenario. I totally avoided the whole quandary, which is what I mean about the options you think you will have not necessarily being true.


The McCulloch Family said... [reply]

I for SURE plan on spitting right on the Atlanta Terminal floors when I see you.

Nemesis said... [reply]

Do it and I'll spit in the chocolate.

Cicada said... [reply]

I'm so glad you're coming back.

Now I only wish that I knew for sure that "back" meant somewhere relatively within my neighborhood. You know I have a 16-foot walk-in closet that you may sleep in at any time...

Scully said... [reply]

I should probably start with an explanation - Panini was raving about your blog in an email she sent me and since I knew you back when you lived in England the first time, I thought I would drop in and say hi. So Hi! Good luck on the finishing touches on the dissertation and your pictures make me want to cry because I always start getting extremely homesick for London about this time of year!

Nemesis said... [reply]

Hi Scully, can you give me a hint and tell me who you are? I couldn't tell from your pic. ;-) You can email me at nemesis@byu.net if you like--I would love to say hello properly!

kristen said... [reply]

Forget the ground, I'll hit you right between the eyes. J/K

Good luck finishing up the thesis.

amyjane said... [reply]

I miss you so much right now that I wouldn't even think of spitting if you showed up on my door. Not that I often think of spitting but you know. My urban family is getting so spread out and it makes me cry.

blackjazz said... [reply]

So, scully isn't really Scully?

BTW - I'd like to state for the record that following the resurrection of your laptop, your efforts to copy your files back from Lady J's PC were impressive. Without writing it down, you followed my rambling explanation of what needed to be done to reconnect to the LAN and map a network drive. I think you deserve an MA just for that! Have you properly considered a career in PC support?

Nemesis said... [reply]

Right back atcha, Kristen!

Amyjane, I would totally come to your house right now if I could. I would bring you a stack of MS Wedding magazines and Kneaders sandwiches and smoothies. And I think I'd better stop talking now or I'll get all teary-eyed.

Blackjazz, you made me blush. I think the computer was just deciding to cooperate with me for the first time. Maybe I will consider becoming a PC support person--would I be allowed to just turn up and shoot the thing? Because I could do that.

Kim & Amy said... [reply]

Great blog! Thanks for posting on Romancing the Tome. Tumnus forever! --Kim

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