bare-faced

OK, here we go.

Tonight I began making lists, as the store was dead. Hardly any customers this evening.

One list that I made was my short-list. I am entitled to my regular luggage, plus 6 pieces of excess baggage, on my trip up. The bulk of my belongings will be shipped up by a moving company, so the purpose of the 6 pieces is to bring the things which are vital to my day-to-day life along with me, so I'm not stuck in the high arctic without frying pan or toothbrush. I'm not allowed to bring food (I've already mentioned that, I think).

So what to put in those 6 pieces? Will my bare necessities fill the 6 pieces, plus my regular bags? Am I going to be struck with massive homesickness right off the bat, that I should bring photographs and memorabilia? Should I bring my most valuable things that I don't trust the movers with? Should I bring my TV in case my boxes take a month, so I'm not bored? Could I possibly stuff a friend into my suitcases so I don't feel adrift when I arrive?

Most likely, I will be fine when I arrive. I've done this before. I know the most urgent thing is to get out and walk around within the first hour of arriving in my new home. Go out and meet a new person. Otherwise you end up holing up in the only safe place you know, and it makes you more tentative when you do eventually have to go out. And I will have the dogs to take care of. Fiona will be a wreck, simply beside herself with trauma from the long trip in a kennel.

But then, at some point, the activity does have to stop, and I will probably sink down to the floor in some part of my house and cry awhile. I guess it's normal, since I've become a crier. The good news is that crying makes me sleepy, so if I can hold off the tears until bedtime of my first night, I should be able to fall nicely asleep, and wake up to face my new town and life fresh and new.

I do wish I wasn't going alone. Or that I wasn't alone in the world. I know I have friends, and I love them dearly and I know they love me, but it isn't the same. I'm not some blind romantic, but I know myself enought to know I can stand on my own two feet better if I know there is someone to catch me in case it doesn't work. I guess I'm finally learning in life that there really are those terrible, horrible, lonely moments. They exist and they're awful - like the skin of your soul is being flayed off. But then just when you absolutely cannot do it anymore, the moment passes.

call me melodramatic if you want. I'm just happy to have a bit of perspective.