Waiting

It’s been close to a week now since I signed the contract. Since then, I’ve heard back from them twice, once to fill me in on the process of how I’d get the visa and all that and once to let me know that the visa is still processing.

If I haven’t said this on Marshallogue yet, it’s high time I did: I hate waiting.

Waiting is uncertainty, and while I might handle some kinds of uncertainty better than average, waiting isn’t one of those kinds. So it’s good practice.

I’ve felt the tension escalate as the week’s worn on. It’s not like I need to leave, although I’d love to get somewhat settled in my place before I have to start teaching. The escalation is more the result of simply not knowing.

Not knowing if I should schedule a final farewell evening. Not knowing if I should ask Ted to take off of work. Not knowing if I should start that other book. Not knowing how to prepare for teaching there, whether I’ll have to jump right in or whether I’ll have some runway once I arrive.

Not knowing.

But knowing that each day that passes means one less day to settle in once I’m there.

At least in other cases of not knowing, I can try to do something about the situation, maybe initiate a move toward knowing. With waiting, though, there’s not much I can do. It’s like, “Yo, it’s in God’s hands now,” and evidently, I don’t appreciate that.

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