Our bags were packed, we were ready to go.

      More than a year ago, when Elizabeth was about to finish her year in AmeriCorps, we began to discuss our options for school and life in general. We came to the conclusion that we both wanted to be as educated as possible. After some failed attempts to find a graduate program on the East Coast we looked again into what was once a pipe dream of moving 3000 miles to London and study at the universities there. Fast forward four or so months, and the bulk of the research was over and we had both applied and were accepted to institutions abroad. 

      I know when I received the offer email I was certainly elated but at the same time couldn't shake the sense of surrealism about the process. In fact, that kind of disconnect with the whole process really colored how I felt about the move until the day we set foot onto the plane. Everything we arranged was done without any real human contact. Sure, we sent emails. Enquiries were answered with surprising promptness despite the five hour time delay. Emails though quickly lost any sort of human touch and I felt adrift in this (at least for me) fully realized digital age. 

The other factor that honed my personal sword of Damocles, was the slipperiness of the time involved.It seemed we were always rushing to complete something just so we could wait for months, or at least weeks to find the next step. Like some sort of hellish scavenger hunt. Of course, time soldiered on. Generally oblivious to my pathetic fallacy. The move went from being far off in the future to next week, and tomorrow. All too quick really. Especially toward the end. Far too quick. 

Despite all the existential angst and emotional difficulty we did find our way over the pond and into a flat. Those details i'll post tomorrow.