While outwardly I have been calm about moving halfway around the world, I have reason to believe that my subconscious is not enjoying such equanimity. My ability to sleep has been vastly affected, as has my ability to speak in complete sentences and to remember basic vocabulary words in English. These symptoms imply that I am under a great deal of stress, and it is only perhaps being overcommitted timewise that is keeping me more or less operating in what superficially appears to be a normal range.
Several friends have expressed an interest in talking to me on the phone before I move, but I've been so busy, finishing either conventional job assignments or setting up for the estate sale so late into the evenings that we haven't been able to talk. I told the Hungarian computer guy at work that I was burning three candles, and he asked me if that were the typical American phrase, and I admitted that it was not, but that two candle-ends seemed insufficient to depict the level of distrait in my life right now.
The estate sale that my uncle and I have worked so hard and so swiftly on opened for business today. The revenue was respectable, but not at the spectacular level that the location and the contents implied was possible. Tomorrow everything is marked down some percentage, and I hope and pray intensely that it will be far more successful than today was, as I have not only medical bills to pay, but also two months of living expenses to have in hand (I won't receive my first Korean paycheck until the end of February), and my car brakes had to be replaced this past Monday. And the aforementioned computer guy told me that I ought to get a new computer before I head overseas, as while the one I have now is working perfectly fine, it is reaching the end of the average lifespan of the typical laptop.
My three suitcases are open and lying semifilled in the middle of my living room, and as yet I haven't put but few clothes in them, just the needful accoutrements of housekeeping. Measuring cups, a tablecloth. Pantyliners, a shower curtain. My scooter, toothbrushes. A sewing kit, language textbooks. A sleeping bag, sandals. Umbrellas, cold medicine. I am packing a box of lighter items that I intend to mail to myself--powdered peanut butter being the most important. I have already purchased 2 computer monitors and a stand and had them shipped ahead of me – the process was moving smoothly, oiled by generous quantities of money, when it ground to a a sudden halt – the international UPS affiliate sent me confusing "we need information" messages linked to an all-Korean website demanding a number that I did not have, and which I must acquire or the shipment could not proceed –which issue was only ironed out after a week and remote interaction with three Amazon staffers [and my actually breaking down into tears on the phone (another manifestation of my subconscious stress level].
One of the several pleasant things that happened this past week, however, was my niece Rita sending me a Facebook message – through her paternal grandmother's account – asking me what the address for this blog was. And one of my cousins told me that he often reads Rummynation when he has downtime from medical school. And my mother made sugar cookies. And I had a good conversation with Grandmommy. And things are being bought out of my consignment booth--which I will be emptying, Lord willing, Christmas Eve morning. And my plane tickets for Seoul (through Atlanta and Tokyo) are bought. And I mailed off my passport to the Korean Consulate for my visa to be affixed. And my garage is now empty enough that a car can be parked in it. And my sweet friend, who is house and cat sitting for me is moving in December 30, the day before my departure. I know without a doubt that the Almighty is sending me to Southeast Asia, but it's all unreal and theoretical right now. I'm as jittery as a bride, and more than a little terrified of the responsibilities that I will be assuming.