Before this ‘moving to Australia’ thing really kicked into gear I often wondered what the most likely source of stress would be and how I would cope with it. Things like organising shipping and finding somewhere to stay when we first land in Sydney have been stressful, but in a very brief way like the song Egg Raid on Mojo. For very brief moment it’s all consuming, but then a solution is found and the problem walks off hand in hand with the stress. Something which my male brain can easily cope with. Here’s a problem. There’s the solution. Everything’s fixed.

But there has been another type of drawn-out stress. Something that I hadn’t anticipated; gently crescendoing in the back of my mind like the song Why So Serious? As always, it’s the little things: having enough pennies in the bank, making new friends, finding somewhere to live, finding work out there and seeing everyone before I leave. I know these are stupid things to be concerned about either because I’ve have zero control over them or they simply aren’t a problem. The Girl and I will easily find somewhere to live and there are enough pennies in the bank. And if you asked me now how I felt I’d say that “I’m great” and that wouldn’t be a lie. I do feel great, but lurking in the back of mind is a tiny amount of worry. But it’s to be expected and I’m certainly not worried about being worried – like ouroboric apprehension.

Actually, the seeing everyone before I go isn’t such a stupid thing to worry about. Truth be told it’s been my biggest worry so far. Everyday I look at the contacts in my phone, then at the dwindling days in my calendar and realise that there is fast becoming less and less time to see people before I go. The Girl and I have been pretty good recently catching-up with groups of friends and individuals, but I’m keenly aware that there are some of you I haven’t seen much of recently. And it’s that guiltily feeling that I haven’t seen some of you plus the worry of organisation and attempted organisation of trying to see other people that has contributed to the slow, creeping anxiety. I’m not saying that I’m Jesus Christ; with thousands of people to visit before I ascend to Heaven on a Qantas Airbus. But this adventure has reaffirmed that I do have a lot of good friends – something that I don’t regret in the least. Just saying that moving would be a lot easier if I was an utter douchebag. I also wouldn’t have to suffer from a momentary lapse in my stoicism when The Girl and I receive a gift from a friend over a lovely meal. Then I have to lie about getting a piece of chilli stuck in my throat.

So yeah. I’m feeling a little unsettled. But still very excited.