the driver said that yesterday. or wednesday. no, wait. yes! no. thursday. thursday was yesterday. he said that on thursday.
(it's hard to keep track of times and dates and days. i've still yet to write the year 2013 down on anything.)
he said that and i thought "oh no."
throughout everything leading up to my moving over here, i've been propelled by a sense of rightness. by the sense that, weird as it is, this was absolutely the thing to do.
but, to be honest, i thought "oh no" most of yesterday, as the consequences of this having actually happened, of my having actually done this, finally hit me. and for much of last night, this refrain ran through my head: i am poor. i am in london. i live in london. i do not love london.
the thing you have to remember about such moments is that they do not last.
today, i walked around for forever. and after entirely too many weeks spent being emotionally and physically pent up, being outside felt downright luxurious.
walking past westminster abbey, i was reminded of the 9th grade paper i'd written on the churches of london. churches i don't even know that i ever expected to see, much less live near.
and somewhere in the middle of sloane street- amidst a row of red buildings that looked eerily like the predecessors of the old MGM new york city set or the campus of mississippi state- i slipped back into that sensation of rightness.
i am poor. i am in london. i live in london. i do not love london.
there are two ways to look at that. it can be either the end of the world or a beginning.