The excitement is starting to build. I was finding it difficult to look forward because I have so much to do before I leave; stress was overriding joy.
A few things moved along this weekend that relieved some stress. I posted furniture for sale to Craigslist and got lots of hits. I think I will sell quite a few items this week. I still feel overwhelmed about packing up the house.
The biggie is that I finished preparing my taxes ! Yeah ! Well, almost. I lost one W2, so I have to call for a new one; but once I plug those figures in, I can file. I’m getting a refund. I guess that’s what really made me feel better. It’s not just the money. It removes a little stress because the next few months are iffy–the unknown. Quit my job, remember?
I’m ticking off my list of things to do: clean up computer; get boxes; find important documents; pack up office; change address; stop the cable and electric; etc. I’m so organized as to have a spreadsheet. I checked my list today and it made me feel pretty good. I’ve finished over half with 3 weeks to go.
Except the house. This weekend is big packing weekend. I’ve got to get it done! Like 50% of the population, I’m a procrastinator when it comes to things I hate. But with only 3 weekends left, I’ve got to empty the house.
And my frenchman? Well, he’s anxiously awaiting my arrival.
I did it. Today I resigned from my job (5 weeks notice).
OMG! I resigned from my job!
Oh, did I forget to mention this is not all about a guy? Sorry to disappoint you hopeless romantics out there. I have this wonderful opportunity to use my marketing skills in a small French company. I guess I did forget to mention that I have been offered a job. One of those “details”: how will I support myself abroad? Remember, I’m not independently wealthy.
So these first three months are really a fact-finding mission: Will the guy work out? Will the job work out? (can’t actually work until I get the VISA–another detail) Can I live in the South of France?
Well, I have three months to figure it out. But the odds are looking pretty good.
The details can kill you. And discourage you. They can almost stop you in your tracks.
Moving to another country is not as easy as packing a suitcase and taking a taxi to the airport. VISAs, passports, bank accounts, health insurance, storage units, taxes. . . I could go on, but I won’t bore you with those details. You are more interested, I’m sure, in how I’m finally getting there.
The short answer is that I’m going on my passport, at least initially. It’s the fastest and easiest way to get there. You can stay in France for up to 90 days on an American passport. For a longer stay, you need a VISA; and I’m not prepared to get a VISA just yet. Why not? Well, you have to be a student, have a job, married to a French national, or independently wealthy to get the long-stay VISA, which is good for one year. I’m none of those things. You see, moving to France to fall in love is NOT considered a valid reason for a VISA. It seems the French, and the Americans, for that matter, are not concerned with matters of love. Surprising, isn’t it?
I’ll figure out the rest later, which is really out-of-character for me. I’m not usually a throw-everything-to-the-wind kind of person. I’m thorough. I research everything. Analyze everything. Find the cheapest, the most expedient, the safest, the most efficient solution. But my counselor says I think to much. And I’m an unconventional person trying to live a conventional life. She told me I’m sitting on the fence trying to climb down the other side. I just need to jump. She’s great with analogies.
So here I go. I’m about to jump. I just hope I don’t drown.