So, it’s a shade unders six months since someone first asked me “how would you feel about coming to work in the US?”, and after a lot of to-and-froing, and a fair amount of organisational meanderings, I’m now a few days away from boarding a flight to San Francisco – the only one-way long-haul flight I’ve ever held tickets for.
Let me take a moment to say “uhhh… wow.”
It’s a really, really big anti-climax, these last few days of waiting. There are still people to spend time with, catch up with, say goodbyes to, but the bulk of the work is done.
I feel like I should be immersed in panic, flitting around organising 101 things, but every time I check my lists and rifle through documents, it’s all there.
Flight booked… check.
Hire car in Sunnyvale… check.
Place to stay… check.
All my belongings (bar those in my hefty suitcase) are already en-route, so all I have to do is sit in a hotel, go for a few drinks here and there and watch the hours tick away.
I had a moment of panic last night, when I realised that I’d left the carefully-prepared folders of immigration documents (yes, including my passport) in the friends’ house where I’ve been staying for the past month, particularly as I realised it 30 seconds after being congratulated on my excellent organisational skills, but I found those this morning.
The panic was almost nice in a way… gave me something to actually feel about the whole thing. It’s all a bit too big to get my head around at the moment, although I’m sure reality will come rushing up to meet me at about the same time the runway of San Francisco airport does.
The most bizarre thing? The only thing I’m even remotely scared about is driving on US roads for the first time in my life. The combination of automatic gears, left-hand drive and driving on the right should be, erm, exhilerating to say the least.
Not much internet access till I get there, so this will probably be all you get until I make it to the other side.
Wish me luck!