losing it

I totally lost my cool today. What little cool I pretend to have. I have been beyond stressed out, not sleeping, worrying every moment for the past three-plus months.

Here's, very briefly, what I haven't been writing about.

I applied for a Master's program (or, programme) at King's College London and was offered a place. I applied in January or February, I think. I can't even remember at this point. I heard back at the end of June. I was already stressing at that point. Many other stresses followed: passport (not that bad, actually), housing (still majorly sucking), visa (ugh, except for the incredible woman who processed my visa), financial aid, plane tickets, hotels (I think a somewhat disgusting dive is in store for me...yea), ecc, ecc, ecc.

I can't begin to explain the lack of sleep, the tremendous doubt, the anxiety, the fear. I wish all of that was past, but it's not.

I got word on Friday that I would be getting my visa. I received said visa (well, my passport with the visa page all filled in) two hours ago. I fly out tomorrow afternoon. I will miss enrolment and I'm hoping that I won't miss induction for my department. I will have to enrol late, next week.

Pic will not be coming with me on this initial trip. In some ways, this is better. I can go find housing for us. I can find a school for her. I can figure out where the grocery stores are, I can set up a bank account, I can start getting into the swing of my classes.

I am planning (please, please) to come back and retrieve Pic in about a month's time. I have never been away from her for more than two nights in a row.

I will miss her. I will miss Cardo. I will miss the covert cat. Yeah, there're a lot of things and there're plenty of people I'll miss.

I'm nervous and scared. I've never done anything like this. I feel, once again, like a kid, and I don't like it. I'd much prefer to have someone come with me, show me the ropes, help me find a place to live. This isn't going to happen.

Anyhow, this is my last full day here and Cardo's at work (he couldn't get any time off because everything is so last minute). I wanted to spend some time with Pic, heading to our local coffeehouse, walking around, just being together, but she didn't want to turn off the tv. When I turned it off, she went directly to her room to cry and we began to argue. Our nerves are frayed, like the electrical cords the rabbit used to chew. Tempers are sparking. I actually slammed Pic's door, because I'm the mature one here. I went into my room and pounded on my mattress and threw my pajamas at the wall.

Things have calmed down between the two of us. She's getting dressed. We're headed out for one last day of mini-adventures. I am, as I have been all these long months, on the verge of tears.

I half want to back out, except I know that I could do excellently well in this program. It's just the getting there and getting settled in that's causing me to feel like I'm going to throw up although I have yet to eat today.

Please, wish me luck. Offer me any advice you have. Tell me you have a relative in London who is just dying to rent Pic and myself a room for ten months.

I'm sorry that I haven't shared more. I just haven't been able to. And, now, everything has (almost) come together in the last couple of days.