“What had she been thinking of?  She just wasn’t the kind of person who lost it.  Other people did, and good luck to them.  But not Lisa- like it or not she was a survivor.  Not that she didn’t feel raw and lonely and wretched, she did.  But nervous breakdowns were like colored contacts-fine for other people, but they weren’t really her.“
– Marian Keyes, Sushi for Beginners

And…whomp!

Coming as unexpectedly and I expected, as unpredictably as I predicted, a sudden, intense burst of anger and disappointment.  A vivid desire that I was not so self-contained so that I could throw myself on the floor and wail.  A distinct and palpable sense of cosmic betrayal.

I was supposed to move to London in two months, and now I’m probably not moving there until February, and J. is going to be on his own, we’ll have to meet up halfway in Virginia for Christmas, six months without my best friend, etc. etc. etc.   Angst, angst, angst.

If J. and I together had decided from the beginning that I would stay behind and catch up later using a visitor’s visa, or even just extended trips, that would have been one thing, but for the past several months we’ve been operating under the scheme of going to London together.  It’s one thing to make travel plans, and entirely another to have travel plans “thrust upon ’em.”  I’ve also been planning on leaving me job in mid-September and have been preparing accordingly… which is just too darn bad because I most likely won’t be going until February instead.

Which is not to say that there isn’t a plan.  Of course there is (don’t you know me at all?).  It’s just that I had this other plan and it’s be been throw completely off course and Small Dogs do not deal well with such things.  I’m ferociously disappointed about not getting to go to London as planned, and I’m less than thrilled at the thought of being stuck here for an additional 6 months while J. is stuck equally alone across the ocean.

The separation will hardly be fun, but it’s entirely doable.  The real underlying frustration for me was the sense that going to London for grad school was the Next Great Step in Life…and now I’ve stagnated again.  I’ve felt thus ever since graduating and waiting for J. to finish his undergraduate as well.  I was ready to move forward onto the next phase…and now I feel that I’m going to be (even if just temporarily) left behind.  And it makes almost unbearably sad.

Truth?  I’m going through the most sensible freak out of my life right now, which is hardly as satisfying as a good old fashioned tantrum…but I must face it.  I’m one of life’s Make It Work types.  As gratifying as it would be to take to my bed and demand my smelling salts, I’m just not that girl.  So I’m pressing on with the moving advice, tips, posts, and general attitude.  After all, it’s only been delayed.

However, in all fairness, it’s been rainy and muggy all day so my attitude may be entirely a byproduct of the weather.

More likely I’m just having a bad day.

“I’ll just have to rise to the occasion and do something spectacular again.  Spectaculars always take so much out of me.”
– The Slipper and the Rose

And now, piglets, we come to the most dangerous and destructive incidents in preparing for a move: when things go wrong, or at least ridiculously awry.   Because they will, and you need to be able to turn on a dime.  Airlines, families, governments, private crises, and various other instances and entities can and will throw your plans off rail and the savvy traveler knows how to land on his or her feet.

For example, Parliament enacted a policy yesterday that changes how and when dependent spouses of students can accompany them to the UK.  And, surprise surprise, we’re affected.  So was our holiday as it was spent forming a new stratagem to get back into a country that the US was currently celebrating it’s freedom from (the irony was not lost on us).

It’s not too tragic, my loves, never fear, but enough for us to largely scrap our plans and start over again in things like housing, travel, and other arrangements.  You may imagine how much this thrills a control freak like me.  My actual response was something along the lines of “Expletive expletive expletivey expletiving expletive!” but after a few minutes of intense angst and a couple hours agonizing to a lesser degree and research, J. and I solved it.  We’ve worked out several plans contingent upon these changes and are feeling, if not chipper about them, rather proud of turning about so quickly with panache.

Sidenote: world leaders, dictators, movers, shakers, celebrities and Very Important Persons, do any of you need a personal assistant?  One who can face nuclear disasters, ambassadors vanishing into the ether, botched public appearances, wardrobe malfunctions, catastrophic paperwork misfilings, and seemingly crushing misfortunes with a quick comeback and immediate, impressive action?  Call me.  I’m your girl.

In any event, my point is thus.  When planning a move, vacation, road trip, military expedition, weekend in Paris, or minor invasion, expect that something, somewhere will go wrong.  It’s the rule, the gods of travel have decreed it thus.  And more importantly, don’t panic.

If your plane is delayed, rerouted, or vanishes into the Bermuda Triangle, you can reschedule, sightsee, and make a good impression on the Higher Beings from the New Dimension as you settle into your new life.  If you are struck down by broken bones or falling crockery, you can get yourself patched up.  And if the British government changes their visa policies, you regroup, thank your lucky stars you didn’t book that weekend in Edinburgh already, and decide to go to the country as a visitor instead.  It’s a separate immigration headache, but it’s highly doable.

As Mum reminded me (in the sensible, crisp tone that she uses to pull me back from the ledge of entirely unwarranted freak outs) there is very little that constitutes a crisis.  J. not getting into grad school last minute, me losing my job, our passports getting stolen, our car breaking down irrevocably, and one of us coming down with a disease previous unknown to science is a crisis.  Having to fly back and forth to the US every handful of months is merely very, very inconvenient.

Perspective, kittens.  When things go wrong it often takes little more than the ability to 1) not whine and 2) get to work setting up a Plan B to set things right.  Because you are all do-ers, aren’t you?  That’s right!