s. I got into Oxfords. I bought about four pair.
I also bought a pair of Hunter rain boots. I think my feet are ready for London.
I have ten days of work left in my twenty-five days before I go.
People keep asking me what I’m going to do while I’m in London. The question is always posed as, “what are you going to do there?” Like, it’s unprecedented that I would go to a foreign country or that once I get there, I’ll have nothing to do. I always want to ask, what does one do while in a different place/foreign country? In fact, I have rebutted with that a couple times and the answer is the same that I give anyway: “sight-see.” Well, no shit.
The other question I’m frankly getting a bit tired of answering is “what are you going to do when you get back?” Bitch, please, I don’t even know where I’m taking my mom out for Mother’s Day; do you think I know what I’ll be doing four months from now? Of course the plan is to come back and work at Omaha Title. But then, life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans. So who’s to say I don’t meet someone who could use me at their London company? or I run into someone from the BBC who just has to have me? or I meet the love of my life? I mean, it sounds silly, all of it, but it could happen. So what does it matter what my plan is for when I come back? I could end up not coming back.
Plus, you’re making me think about my return to the US and I haven’t even left yet, give me a break.
Twenty-five days. Well, hell, not even twenty-five til I leave Omaha. Twenty-one days til I fly to Boston. Twenty-one days… oh my God.
Oh my God! That’s three weeks!
Oh my God. That’s three weeks.
It’s setting in, bit by bit, as you can clearly see.
I’ve been in such a great mood this month. March and April were either shitty, stressful, or otherwise. May has just been a really decent month so far. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I’ve worked out six out of the past ten days, or that I’ve been slowly giving up responsibilities to the guy taking my place, or the obvious – that my trip is rapidly approaching. There have actually been days where I’m in such a stupid happy mood that I just smile.
Gag me, right?
The trip isn’t real yet. I think I’ll organize some stuff this weekend. I don’t know, I just want to get started.
It might not be real until my family flies back to Omaha and leaves me in Boston for a day until my flight to London. It might not even be real until I land at Heathrow and get through customs.
What will I do that first day? There’s a good question I haven’t yet been asked. I get in at some stupid hour like 720am. It’ll take a while to get through customs and then get through London via taxi. Maybe to the flat by 10? I’ll have all day. What will I do?
Whatever the fuck I want.