The Gentleman's move overseas has temporarily taken over my entire life, which is really quite rude, when you think about it.
First off, it was terribly inconvenient for him to be given 30 days' notice. That is just bad form. I will say this however - he is remarkably adaptable. If someone gave me 30 days to move overseas, my priority list would be altogether different. I would be worrying about how to pack up my extensive collection of scarves and shoes, and I would be Googling "What to wear in the Middle East in July" over and over again. He just seems to mostly be concerned with silly, less-important things like vaccinations and ex-pat paperwork.
Side note: It was all fun and games to go to Jordan in December. I never worried once about my attire, primarily because Jordan is far more relaxed than most other Middle Eastern countries about what women wear, and also because, well, it was December. I actually spent most of the time being cold and grateful that I brought a winter coat.
But going to Abu Dhabi in July? Here's a brief glimpse at the forecast: 99, 107, 108, 109, 99.
Fun.
Not that Baltimore has been much chillier... But still, this is something I'm going to have to consider. How am I going to visit The Gentleman and be covered from elbow to ankle in 100+ degree weather? Thankfully I don't have to think about that just yet, because he's the one heading out there in four days, not me. I'll worry about it when I go this fall, when the weather is perfection and I have time to plan fashionable yet respectful outfits.
That was a long side note.
Note to self: break habit of writing long side notes prior to beginning book writing.
Note to self: don't self-criticize publicly.
Anyhoodle, so when your significant other moves overseas, it's only proper that you'd want to spend oooh-gads (note to self: don't make up words) of time with this person. Because in the coming months, your interactions will be limited to the written word and pixellated images. Which is kind of really depressing, but also kind of really fun because you get to think up what all you can do over Skype.
NOT LIKE THAT.
I mean like...watching our TV shows together. Or a movie. Or playing UNO. Whatever people do on Skype that isn't THAT.
Whatever, anyway, the point is - we've fit a pretty decent Baltimore bucket list into the past 3.5 weeks (pics to follow). We ate adventurously, traveled as much as we could in such a short period of time, and spent time with family and friends.
But there comes a moment where you have that awful, horrible thought. The one that racks you with guilt, that you know you will regret the instant you drop him off at the airport and wave goodbye for the first leg of being apart.
It's the feeling of...wanting relief. Of saying, OK, here we go, life begins again anew and it's a new normal. Here's my new routine, here are my new habits, here's when we'll Skype, and here's when we'll call, and here's how this is all going to work. There is relief in that - in building a new normal.
What we have now is chaos. We are cramming six months' of activities into three weeks, on top of one of us trying to prep for a trans-continental move. Life feels at ends, with laundry undone and toenails in bad need of a pedicure.
The Gentleman leaves on Friday, and I know it's going to be difficult. I know it is. But the truth is, I'm totally exhausted from the intensity of saying goodbye-but-not-goodbye, and with the constant realization that Friday the 13th is coming (horrible choice of dates, bee-tee-dubs), and that I'll have to make that drive to the airport, and I'll come home and The Gentleman will no longer live only two blocks down but 7,024 miles and 8 time zones away. And I'll probably cry and yell at the cats for a few days, but then at least I can begin the process of finding this new normal. And do my laundry. And paint my toenails.
The anticipation'll kill ya.
So, I never thought I'd say this, but...I'm ready for it to be Friday. We have three days left of running around like crazy, and then I can just be upset and crazy and stop with the brave face I've been putting on because I didn't want to waste a second of our time together with being sad.
And the sooner we get started on this new life, the sooner two years will go by.
And the sooner I can go to Abu Dhabi to see Marina Mall.
I mean - The Gentleman.
Yes, to see that guy.
First off, it was terribly inconvenient for him to be given 30 days' notice. That is just bad form. I will say this however - he is remarkably adaptable. If someone gave me 30 days to move overseas, my priority list would be altogether different. I would be worrying about how to pack up my extensive collection of scarves and shoes, and I would be Googling "What to wear in the Middle East in July" over and over again. He just seems to mostly be concerned with silly, less-important things like vaccinations and ex-pat paperwork.
Side note: It was all fun and games to go to Jordan in December. I never worried once about my attire, primarily because Jordan is far more relaxed than most other Middle Eastern countries about what women wear, and also because, well, it was December. I actually spent most of the time being cold and grateful that I brought a winter coat.
But going to Abu Dhabi in July? Here's a brief glimpse at the forecast: 99, 107, 108, 109, 99.
Fun.
Not that Baltimore has been much chillier... But still, this is something I'm going to have to consider. How am I going to visit The Gentleman and be covered from elbow to ankle in 100+ degree weather? Thankfully I don't have to think about that just yet, because he's the one heading out there in four days, not me. I'll worry about it when I go this fall, when the weather is perfection and I have time to plan fashionable yet respectful outfits.
That was a long side note.
Note to self: break habit of writing long side notes prior to beginning book writing.
Note to self: don't self-criticize publicly.
Anyhoodle, so when your significant other moves overseas, it's only proper that you'd want to spend oooh-gads (note to self: don't make up words) of time with this person. Because in the coming months, your interactions will be limited to the written word and pixellated images. Which is kind of really depressing, but also kind of really fun because you get to think up what all you can do over Skype.
NOT LIKE THAT.
I mean like...watching our TV shows together. Or a movie. Or playing UNO. Whatever people do on Skype that isn't THAT.
Whatever, anyway, the point is - we've fit a pretty decent Baltimore bucket list into the past 3.5 weeks (pics to follow). We ate adventurously, traveled as much as we could in such a short period of time, and spent time with family and friends.
But there comes a moment where you have that awful, horrible thought. The one that racks you with guilt, that you know you will regret the instant you drop him off at the airport and wave goodbye for the first leg of being apart.
It's the feeling of...wanting relief. Of saying, OK, here we go, life begins again anew and it's a new normal. Here's my new routine, here are my new habits, here's when we'll Skype, and here's when we'll call, and here's how this is all going to work. There is relief in that - in building a new normal.
What we have now is chaos. We are cramming six months' of activities into three weeks, on top of one of us trying to prep for a trans-continental move. Life feels at ends, with laundry undone and toenails in bad need of a pedicure.
The Gentleman leaves on Friday, and I know it's going to be difficult. I know it is. But the truth is, I'm totally exhausted from the intensity of saying goodbye-but-not-goodbye, and with the constant realization that Friday the 13th is coming (horrible choice of dates, bee-tee-dubs), and that I'll have to make that drive to the airport, and I'll come home and The Gentleman will no longer live only two blocks down but 7,024 miles and 8 time zones away. And I'll probably cry and yell at the cats for a few days, but then at least I can begin the process of finding this new normal. And do my laundry. And paint my toenails.
The anticipation'll kill ya.
So, I never thought I'd say this, but...I'm ready for it to be Friday. We have three days left of running around like crazy, and then I can just be upset and crazy and stop with the brave face I've been putting on because I didn't want to waste a second of our time together with being sad.
And the sooner we get started on this new life, the sooner two years will go by.
And the sooner I can go to Abu Dhabi to see Marina Mall.
I mean - The Gentleman.
Yes, to see that guy.
4 comments:
Can I schedule a date for Restaurant Week with you as part of your new normal? :-)
~Kris
P.S. I think you guys are amazing (and crazy, but mostly amazing) for making 7k miles work. Don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it!!
Awww, thanks :)
Yes, let's discuss RW. It's coming up, isn't it? I wouldn't celebrate without you!
Yes, we are totally crazy, but it will be ok. And I will totally be needing happy hours and whatnot. Time for you to come to my friendly neighborhood wine bar!
Hope your trip was fun - the pictures look amazing.
1- It's the last weekend in July through the first weekend in August. aka plenty of time to eat plenty of places!
1a- I accidentally typed "people" instead of "places."
2- Yes yes wine bar! Perhaps in the next two weeks? Or maybe August, after you've settled into your new normal. :-)
~Kris
Si si, perfecto! I shall be in touch.
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