today i realized i'd not received a reminder to file a CRUCIAL piece of paperwork that is ESSENTIAL to my staying in england. and because i'd not received the reminder to file, i'd not filed and, because i'd not filed, and because my father was asleep and not answering his phone to remind me that the tax thing we'd filed last month wasn't a tax thing but a notification of off-shore bank accounts, between 12:25 and 12:50 this afternoon, i went into a complete and total deathspiral of doom.
it's moments like this that remind that me that the fact of my being in england is underpinned by a deep and immense terror that something will force me to leave england. be that an act of god, like death of a family member, or an act of my own stupidity, like failure to file a key form. any and all uneasiness about being in england comes back to this in the end.
but some of it (most of it?) is, i realize, self-inflicted.
the dramedy today was fueled by a mistaken belief that the form was due on 30 june. turns out (i think) it wasn't. so all should be fine. and were i another person, a less uptight, perfectionistic person, this would probably be totally normal for me... turning in forms less than four months before the outcome is required.
because i am myself that is not my norm.
i've resisted the urge to email the funding guy at school and ask, "PAUL, IS EVERYTHING GOING TO BE OK?!?!?!" mostly because i couldn't figure out how to word the email without sounding like a loon. but the worry remains. i'ma shove it deep, but it'll remain.
i try to pretend like this is somehow artistically useful. as though it were an element essential to my creative process when, really, let's be real IT IS NOT. it's this, again and again and again and again, on repeat, on a loop...