This post was originally written on June 19, 2014. Since then, many thoughts and details have changed. But to keep this authentic to my transition I wanted to post as is. We’ve submitted our visa applications a week ago and they say it should take about 4 week, but possibly 6, or even 8. E’s goal start date is August 1st. Let’s say, fingers crossed, we get our Visas the first week of July. Then we have about 4 weeks to celebrate the 4th, throw a baby shower for by best friend, go to Scotland to find a place to live, have going-away get-togethers, go shopping for necessities, find a storage unit, pack things into corresponding piles- storage and Scotland, get Stella’s final vet clearance, and take flight.
That list is very generic and general. All those tasks have hours of work in them, and countless, miniscule steps to complete along with insane amounts of stress. The worst part is that we can’t even start moving on any of them until we get our visas….which come when they come and we just have to sit around twiddling our thumbs (as my mother likes to say) waiting for them. It’s really hard to plan for anything.
I am a planner. A really good one for the most part. Most of my career has been in event planning and that’s where I excel. I like to be in control and I like to get things done and put them in the can for when they’re needed. I try to plan ahead so I can avoid any unnecessary stress. But I can’t! I am stuck waiting, and in one moment everything is going to drop into place and I’m given a green light. Then, to my dismay, I’m forced into running around like a chicken with my head cut off getting everything done in a finite amount of time, against a deadline. And there’s nothing I can do about it.
And you’d think I’d get used to it….
E was offered this job in mid/late-February. We got the official offer letter the last week in May. For the months between…there was sporadic (at best) communication that we’re waiting for final approval on what package would be offered and the logistics of the transition. Weeks would go by and we weren’t sure if we ever would move. And then all of a sudden we were flown out to San Diego for a psych evaluation (with a week notice), and then moving companies, visa coordinators, and tax consultants started contacting us. Then finally, the official letter was sent…but now we’re back in the holding cell. And it’s driving me mad!
Filed under: expat