Moving Day(s)

As I sit to write this I have been awake for approximately 31 hours. That is one long day. Or days depending on how you count it. 

Yesterday morning I woke up around 8ish Mountain time. I had spent the night at a friend's (and my cat's foster-mom until she can be sent to me!) place as a) I had no furniture left, and b) the cat was there. Leaving my little furry monster was very tough - there were tears for sure. 

I went back to my apartment where another friend (have I mentioned recently how lucky I am?) was cleaning (for pay). I had some errands to run including returning my rental car and other very exciting things, and then returned to help (in a very not that helpful way) with the cleaning until my mum arrived.

When mum did arrive we loaded up her car with my suitcases, the last bit of stuff to be stored, and some stuff that I was giving her. I said goodbye to the friend who stayed to work more on cleaning (with more tears... This will be a trend!) and mum and I drove to the airport. My mum is amazing and pretty much my best friend, so I knew it would be a tough trip. 

At the airport we had quite a long wait in line where we ended up talking to a quite nice woman who had also done Color Me Rad over the weekend. She was super excited for me and my adventures which helped me feel a lot braver and stronger leaving. Mum and I had a quick lunch at one of the places before security and then came the hard part. I told her not to come through security with me because it would drag out the goodbye and make it harder. As it was I sobbed into her shoulder a fair bit before we parted. Just thinking about it is making me tear up again. It was probably the hardest thing I've done.  

The flight itself wasn't bad. Not particularly good either... Exactly what you would expect from a cheap international flight. The highlight was the two British ladies sitting next to me who were also very excited for me and were really interesting to talk to. They both had trained as teachers but were not working in schools. Unfortunately there was a good example of truly awful parenting taking place two rows behind us, this combined with my body cramping from the confined space and the whole jumping time zones prevented me from getting any in-flight sleep. 

The hardest thing about the flight was the emotional ride I went on. I became super anxious about everything and anything. I went through sadness and excitement and fear and elation and all of it. I will admit my anxieties are still really high and I catch myself worrying about silly stuff or serious stuff that I can't control. I keep trying to remind myself that it is just my brain struggling to take in everything. 

We arrived at Gatwick airport this morning (Tuesday) around 7 am GMT (midnight Mountain time). I hadn't booked my train tickets out of London until early afternoon and realized as we landed what a mistake I had made. I had two suitcases, one of which was ridiculously large and heavy, meaning I really couldn't do much other than sit around and wait. So I wished that things would be slow - that immigration would take their time, that customs would search me, that the train would be late, etc. Alas, no such luck. Lots of other stuff happened, but nothing to eat up the time I had to kill. Border control asked lots of questions as I was entering on an actual visa and not just as a tourist, but it didn't take long (especially compared to Calgary a few weeks ago!). I didn't have anything to declare at Customs so was able to just walk through. 

The first snag I hit was when I got to the train station. I had booked all my train tickets ahead of time - a deadly trap as I learned! Especially when I had booked the first train for the wrong day! Luckily it wasn't too expensive to get a new ticket, and it did make me miss the first possible train I could have caught. I found a bench to sit on, and decided to miss a few more trains since I had so much time to kill. After missing 2 or 3 or maybe more I caught a train to St. Pancras. It was a fairly full train with lots of people with big suitcases and no luggage racks, so I ended up hanging out near the door half-sitting on my larger suitcase. 

When I got to St. Pancras I grabbed a bite to eat and then walked over to King's Cross. It was only around 10:00 at this time and the train I had booked wasn't set to leave until almost 2:00. Because of how big my suitcases were I didn't feel I could store them or leave them anywhere (even long enough to to the bathroom!) I decided instead of hanging out in London to buy a ticket for an earlier train for the first half of my journey. I was going to have to sit and wait a lot for the second half but I felt that I would have a better chance of finding somewhere to sit in a smaller station. I realized later I could probably have changed my existing ticket - I blame the fact I was already super exhausted at this point for my lack of thinking! I killed some more time and caught a train around 11:00 out to Doncaster. Luckily this train had a luggage rack and I was able to free myself from my suitcases for a short while. (One of the train employees helped me get the suitcases onto the train - he picked up the heavy one and asked me if there was a body in it or something it was so heavy! Too much stuff!) I have to admit I really enjoyed getting to use a bathroom! 

When I got to Doncaster I explored a bit and grabbed a little more food. Then I sat and waited. And sat and waited. And sat and waited. And tried not to fall asleep. And sat and waited. And cried a bit. And got really grumpy. And worried about everything. And sat and waited. I posted a self-pitying Facebook status and got to chat online with my mum which helped a lot. Finally (finally!) the train arrived which also helped a lot. Alas there was again no luggage rack and I got to sit on my suitcase. But I knew I was in the final stretch so I didn't particularly care this time. 

I was met at the train station by one of the boys living at the house currently (actually the one whose room I will eventually take over as he is going on a new exciting adventure). He took the heavy suitcase (yay!) and we walked back to the house. He then took me down to the Main Street to show me around a bit and grab some take out for me to have for dinner - I opted for a full out English experience and got a curry. I have spent the rest of the evening back at the house visiting with the different roommates as well as having a Skype conversation with my mum. With many more tears. 

I will admit that now that I am really here I am pretty freaked out. This is real. I am far away and facing a challenging job and in a total different time zone and this is all real. I know it is going to be a great experience and I will come out of it far the better for having done it. And I am excited for all the cool stuff I will get to do. But there will be lots of tears over the next few days (weeks?) and a fair bit of unreasonable anxiety and it will be tough. Luckily there are good people here who will help a lot, and good people back in Edmonton that I can talk to when I need. And I am eternally grateful for that! 

And on that note (and another hour of wakefulness) I think it is time to go to sleep and see how my brain feels in the morning.