I guess this whole moving to London thing is really happening.
Sean and I spent the majority of our day today on the phone with realtors trying to find an apartment. It was equal parts hilarious and overwhelming. I giggled like a school girl every time they spoke. The accent just doesn't get old and I am so much more willing to give my money to someone when they say "cheers" at the end of the conversation, which doesn't really bode well for me since I am moving to a country where they say it all.the.time. I better get over this Brit crush quickly.
At the same time, it was an incredibly overwhelming experience. I felt like such an idiot. When I first started researching apartments I was pumped by how cheap they were. Everyone kept advising me how expensive London was and I just didn't see it. I was very proud of myself and was shoo-ing off those naysayers. That is until I realized I wasn't thinking in pounds, I was thinking in dollars...and the dollar is complete crap right now. booooo. Also, most apartments, or "flats" I should say, are priced per week instead of per month, so one month's rent is really like 4.3 weeks. double booo. add on top of that the fact that we need an apartment to be completely furnished, near my school, near the job Sean hasn't gotten yet, oh and we have no idea what neighborhood means what since I've never actually BEEN to London and you've got stress with a capital S. tequila anyone?
On top of that, I sent in my Visa paperwork today. It was like releasing my first born child out into the wild. I have spent months getting all the proper documentation for the stupid thing. This visa better provide me a lot more than just an extended stay in Europe. For all the trouble and hoops I've gone through, I want first preference in all lines at Disney World, free airfare around the world, and to be the first female President. seriously. I sent my Visa baby out into the world in a double sided, labeled folder with a GIANT typed message on the front that read "If missing ANYTHING please notify me at..." with all of my information. The British General Consulate in New York now has my passport, my financial statements, photographs of myself, my fingerprints, college transcripts, 3 different completed applications and my sanity. Say a prayer I get them all back please (it is a toss up at this point which is more important- the passport or my sanity).
Day by day, it is becoming more real that I am picking up my life and moving to London for a year. Holy crap. I am equal parts scared and excited. As it gets closer, I am hoping the excitement overtakes the scary. I am feeling very Julia Roberts a la Eat Pray Love right about now, except my story is more like Eat Study Love. (I don't want to deviate from it too much. The Italy section of the book was my favorite and we all know this little lady loves her carbohydrates)
whew. I feel better...blog therapy is so much cheaper than retail therapy.