As I mentioned in I’m moving to Georgia for about a year (to renovate a house I bought there.
But, for someone that thinks of himself as a traveler kind of guy, it really is sad to see how bad I am at even the simplest travel tasks. It took me weeks to find a flight, weeks to figure out what to pack, and weeks put the rest of my stuff in storage. Well that’s not quite right: it will be weeks for the last two things when I get them done; it’s been weeks already but I’ve not finished yet.
There is twelve days before I leave! Good God! I shudder when I calculated my departure! That’s less than two weeks from now!
Well, I’ll pull together somehow, I always do, but each time it seems that everything causes more and more stress.
I’m beginning wondering if this is the kind stress that causes men in their 40s to drop dead of heart attack. I’m in my forties so this is not a theoretic question.
I don't like where this is going. I was hoping that writing this might prove a bit therapeutic, but it’s not helping — I think it’s making it worse.
The only silver lining to all this I can think of is this: I know for sure the minute, the very minute that I start lugging my luggage to the bus terminal (I take the bus to Montreal from where I’ll fly to Moscow) all the stress will be gone.
One way or another, this is going to end well.
Assuming there is no mid-forties stress induced heart attack.
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