So we are moving to Victoria, my spouse and I.
Julie (that’s the spouse) was accepted at UVic to do a Master’s degree to become a Counselling Therapist. This rocks – Julie has been working on what to do with her life for quite a while, and she’s figured out that this is what she wants to do.
She’s a natural at this job. She took a number of classes that were pre-requisite for application and enjoyed them and did well. She’s been volunteering for the last year or so doing actual counselling-type work, and my impression is that she’s really good.
So, now we move from Vancouver, where I have been since 1994, to the fair isle. Moving day is August 5.
Moving, I am remembering, is a stressful thing to do.
Much of the stress comes not so much from the task of packing and sorting all my worldly possessions, but more from the disassembly of what I used to know as home. I keep looking for my keys on the table in the living room, getting there and realizing that there no longer is a table in the living room. When something isn’t where you thought it was, that’s a little alarming, but when the thing that was under where you thought it was, the thing that was next to where you thought it was, and in fact the whole room is different from what you thought it was, this becomes very disconcerting.
Moving day is less than 2 weeks away. Perhaps a little more than half of our packing is done. I am not so much looking forward to moving to Victoria as I am to having this project behind me.
I am having a hard time imagining what the day after will be like. What time will I wake up in the morning? What will I eat for breakfast? What will I do with that day? Normally, I don’t worry about my schedule all that much, but that’s because these days it is fairly predictable.
Sometimes more than others, life is an adventure.