Yeah, I’m still here, both figuratively and literally – still behind the wizard’s curtain at VCTB, and still in Stockport. And, yes, still counting down the days until the latter no longer pertains.
Today saw a new phase of Operation #Back2Southsea* begin, namely the phase that focusses on ensuring that I have somewhere to move into down there before my tenancy expires up here. The three agencies I spoke to today all said that it’s a bit early to be hunting for a rental property with an April tenancy start, which I kind of expected. But still, I emailed them all a list of requirements, and will be doing the same again every weekday this week.
This is partly because I want to feel like I’m actively working on making the move a success; moving house is never much fun at the best of times, and doing it over a ~250 mile distance makes it all the more complicated. My major concern here is that I want to be sure that there’s no void period between the two tenancies; I have a whole lot of stuff (most of which, to be fair, is books), and don’t want to have to go through the hassle of putting stuff in storage, imposing on friends or crashing in a B&B for a few weeks, so on and so forth. A nice clean transfer’s what we’re after: get everything signed off on the new place before I have to be out of this one, then load my junk into one single (large) vanload, down the M6 and out into the new manor. Sorted.
It’ll probably work out that way, too. What’s interesting (in a kind of “damn, that seems a bit counterintuitive, not to mention annoying” kind of way) is how taking positive action as detailed above seems to have actually increased my anxiety about the move a little bit.
Thinking about it, though, it makes a certain amount of sense: actively beginning the house-hunt is functionally equivalent to opening a new book of uncertainties, and uncertainties – for me at least – are a big source of anxiety. Probably the biggest, actually; bad news I can deal with, but not knowing whether I’ll need to deal with bad news or not? That’s the killer. (I know; go figure.)
And right now there’s a whole lot of uncertainties flying around: job applications, freelance opportunities, further education options, creative directions, all very much up in the air like a set of juggling balls just about to reach the peak of their trajectories, and whose exact downward vectors are all interdependent on one another. Or like a selection of Schrödinger’s cats in quantum entanglement with each other, maybe. When just one wavefunction collapses – just one – the others will start to resolve themselves in a chain reaction, and the way forward will become clear. Until then, I’m stood like Hermes at the crossroads on a tarot card: one step beyond the fool’s blind leap into the unknown, buzzing with potential… but the real journey has yet to begin.
And so I wait for a bolt from the blue, for a cat to die-or-not-die, for the balls to fall. I don’t wait well, but I’d better get used to it, hadn’t I? 🙂
[ * Yes, my relocation has its own hashtag. That’s just how I roll, yo; altermodernistic network realism, all up in yo’ grill. ]