I Got Into Oxford!

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.



In my weakened, sickly state the past few days. I had the privilege of boredly perusing the B movies on Netflix. I came across one called Take This Waltz with Michelle Williams, Seth Rogen, Luke Kirby, etc. Besides being a pretty horrible movie, honestly, there was one quote that sort of stunned me.

Williams’s character gets anxious when she has a connecting flight. She says it’s not because she’s afraid of getting lost and missing her flight, it’s just that she is afraid of the uncertainty and the limbo about it. She confides in Kirby’s character about this fear.

His quote to her later is what stuck with me (besides how much I did not enjoy the rest of the film, although got too far into it to not finish it. Hey, what can I say, I stick to my commitments. Off topic.):

“I’ve been thinking about that airport fear of yours, of being in between things. I think I kinda hate it too. I know it’s kind of the nature of being alive, but I’d like to avoid it wherever possible. I don’t think I wanna be in between things” (Take This Waltz, 2011, http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1592281/?ref_=sr_1).

I have to give this shitty, Indie film credit. Somehow it managed to describe exactly how I feel/have been feeling lately. I’m just inbetween.

I have this impending London adventure and I’m just biding my time.

I’m waiting for my connecting flight and it’s taking forever for the stewards to call boarding.

I’m double- and triple-checking my boarding pass to make sure I have my seat memorized, but it doesn’t matter because I still have so much time that I’ll be checking it again when I queue up.

I’m between. I’m in a life layover. I hate to feel like my “life hasn’t started” until I leave for London, but part of me kind of does.

I love my job, the people I work with, my apartment, my alone time, my ability to be a lazy ass, time spent with friends and family, all of it. But…

I’m still stuck in the airport, waiting for my connecting flight. Life has brought me here, and I have to wait for it to take me there.

It’s a bit maddening. I’m not a very patient person.

The time can be so short and yet so long – such a short amount of time between now and when I hopefully leave, and yet it feels an eternity.

I should look at this as an opportunity to focus on… whatever… and work on my patience.

But that’s the thing, I don’t use my time wisely. I fill my time with everything else I want to do and wait until the last minute to get to work.

And I don’t want to be in between things.

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