Then it occurred to me: why do I want to document all the shitty stuff? I mean, what benefit would that have? All it is going to do is perpetuate the negativity, draw more of it in, and create further drama. No thanks.
So, I have decided to NOT post the pissing and moaning, no matter how funny some of it is (in hindsight,) no matter how well-written the account is (if I do say so myself) and no matter how patient and tolerant it may have made me appear to be (and I've been an f-ing saint, seriously.)
I am, however, going to give a few summaries of the major occurrences... namely:
- the drama with not being adequately prepared to move (sorry and thanks, though, to Geoff and Katrina,)
- the drama with trying and trying and trying and trying and trying to get our phone and internet (British Telecom, also known at BT, is the anti-Christ, in case you wondered),
- the drama with getting a mobile (say "mo-by-ul") phone,
- the drama with trying to get a work permit,
- the drama with learning how to understand British (because it IS a different language...don't let the Hugh Grant movies fool you into thinking otherwise,)
- the drama of learning how to cook all over again,
- the drama of getting our bank account,
- the drama of being with the same three people for 24-hours a day, seven days a week, for 34 days in a row (and I speak for each of us separately on that one,)
- and the drama of being terribly, heinously, horribly homesick while trying to comfort two wonderful children experiencing the same homesickness, coupled with their apprehension over starting a new school and new life.
See how it can get really ugly really fast?
Stay tuned for the summaries...it's the only glimpse you'll get into the bad stuff. The rest is just me and my babbling...and anyone who reads this can probably say that you had enough of that before I moved. (Except for Sue or Julie...you both can say that I was the crappiest at sharing my babble with you guys. For that, I am sorry.)