panic button

I've hit the panic point.

I'm leaving in two weeks and 3 days. I'm still trying to get my goods shipped. feeling very shit-hitting-fan.

The word from the mighty nunavummiut is that I have to accept the current living situation, and then once everyone has met everyone, iron out details. This move is feeling a lot more ooky than it did two weeks ago. It's fair to say I'm freaking out a bit. Anyone feel like taking a little road trip to the greater Montreal area this week?

I'm trying to keep a sense of humour here, but I am totally overwhelmed. This isn't a case of "for better or worse everything will be wrapepd up in two weeks"... this feels more like "must cram six months of preparation into two weeks when all I want to do is lay in a hammock and drink".

this is cold feet in the extreme. this is frostbitten feet. this is me thinking, "maybe I'm an idiot. maybe this is the stupidest thing I've done in a long time."

this is me, shaking in my shoes. here's the shocker that will not shock anyone: I'm scared. I would give up so much to have a partner in this. I only need one stable thing; I need one thing that I can count on. Just one. This is one of those times that I fiercely wish that there was a god and that I could believe it. (this is not an invitation to 'save' me though, thanks.) It's just... some conviction that I would be taken care of would give me so much peace of mind. Some assurance that everything will work out ok in the end...

I know I'm a tough cookie. I can handle a lot. I'm pretty independent, I'm open and make friends pretty easily. I like adventure and stuff. And yet I know I don't have to do the hard thing just because it's hard. I'll have a great time up there. It will be hard. It is bittersweet, and right now I'm tasting mostly the bitter.

I feel strange posting such naked fear on the blog. But really, who cares? If this blog is going to track my northern experience, it might as well be honest, right?