Mood: All kinds of nerves, excitement, apprehension and worry.
(*edit 22/12/17 00:16am: Truth be told I began writing this diary entry 3 days before it’s published date and things have gotten a whole lot of sad. I joked around with my Nan saying “I hope you or the dog doesn’t end up popping your clogs whilst I’m away” because it would totally suck being alone if that happened. Tonight, my dog – Lady – wasn’t right at all. Usually she would wag her tail, pace up and down and bark at the sight of a treat or a ball or any family member walking through the door but she didn’t. She laid on the floor barely lifting her head to meet our eyes and breathing strangely – both Nan and Mum decided it’d be best to take her to the vet. Unfortunately Mum had to put her down due to a tumour in her liver. We don’t know how long it’s been there for but it pains me to think she could’ve put on a brave face for so long until it got too much.)
This time next week I will be sat in the back seat of my Dad’s silver taxi, for the last time in years, travelling up to Birmingham Airport.
I have to keep reminding myself that I’m about to embark on the most amazing adventure of my life so far, but it seems that every time I catch myself in mindful silence my stomach drops and my heart begins to race. That’s completely normal, I think… I mean this isn’t just moving 2 hours down the road to Plymouth where I’ll be surrounded by familiar faces. I’m packing my shit up and moving to a completely mysterious country all by myself, so yes Jodie it is completely normal.
I honestly don’t know why I lost sleep over the 30kg baggage limit for the flights. I bought one of those luggage weighing thingymabobs and weighed what I’d already packed and it came to 15kg. I still have about 5 bits of clothing to pack, pants & socks and then toiletries and make-up. So yeah, I’ve been totally freaking out over nothing BUT imagine being told you have to fit the next 3+ years of your life into 30kg, oh and if you go over this limit bye-bye items because you bought economy seats!
*I’m a hypocritical bitch. I used to look down at those people mourned the death of pets for days or weeks on end… I’d want to grab their shoulders and shout “IT WAS JUST A DOG!” But here I am sobbing silently because my dog died 6 hours ago and it’s left this huge lump in my throat that I can’t seem to shift. I’m just glad I was in the UK when she was put down.
This first diary entry is for you my batshit crazy doggo,