Cleaning, sorting and packing

In my head I have already gone, but, of course, I have not. The waiting and fussing are making me alternatively morose or bonkers. I want to be out of here; I want to be on my way; I want this new adventure to begin. But at the same time I'm moodily thinking about how much I'll miss Arlequino and my little life here at home. Not my job, exactly, but my house, my cat, my friends and family, yes even some of my students. 


Meanwhile, I'm tidying my office, putting away clothes that are strewn about, cleaning out the fridge. Generally getting my house ready for the marvellous E (house and cat sitter--and last minute godsend) to move in. What I can't clean and tidy up are my fears. Not fears, exactly, but slightly anxious anticipations. Tiny tremors. 


I am going to Eastern Europe. A Europe that is NOT in the EU. A Europe that was rather recently Communist. A Europe that I expect will be rather monochromatic and mono-cultural. Not a Europe I know.


I have imagined that things will initially fold out like this:

• The Croatian language will sound so completely unfamiliar to my ear that I'll repeatedly forget even simple words and phrases, like hello or thank you. I will be immensely grateful that lots of people speak English. I will smile and shake hands. A LOT.
• My visiting professor flat will be tiny. It will have a hot plate and a pull out couch for a bed. The taps will drip and the lightbulbs will be low wattage. There might be a disinfectant smell (which is vastly preferable to a mouldy or sour smell). There will be motel room art on the walls--or nothing at all.
• The flat will be miles away from the university and the centre of town--because it's cheaper rent out there.
• Blessed V will be as charming and helpful and warm as she has been on email. I will also like her husband right away. I might cling.
• They will be expecting someone younger and more fun.
• Naturally, despite weeks of planning, I will have packed all the wrong clothes and shoes.

• The students will be amazing.
• The first week will fly by.

I'll test these imaginings once I get there.

Three days and counting down.