It occurs to me that, in the wake of my lost August and September, I’ve never actually revealed my long-hyped Big Plans. I don’t have many details yet, but the general framework is set in my psyche:
1) Survive to Xmas (no small feat)
2) Get clean bill of health from nephrologist (significantly smaller feat, thank goodness!)
3) Give resignation at work, probably timed to leave before Year 7 officially starts in late February. This trebels my fun, as I can quit before a depressing anniversary AND leave my company in the lurch for a month AND allow a month’s worth of work to build up just in time for my accursed tormentor to return from her maternity leave. I am nothing if not incredibly spiteful.
4) Clean and sell condo. The former is definitely the tougher task of the two. I am nothing if not an incredibly spiteful packrat.
5) Possibly buy a condo in Hamilton, industrial-therefore-hugely-discounted city just outside Toronto. There are some beautiful areas unaffected by the Blade Runner atmosphere around the steel plants, and Toronto’s overcrowded commuters are finally waking up to this. I want to jump in while there are still a ton of deals to be had. The key to this step will be comparing the condo fees to storage-space rental prices…
5) Relocate cat. This promises to be the toughest step, both emotionally and practically.
6) Board a boat for Europe. Yes, boat. I am nothing if not an incredibly spiteful packratty wimp who is afraid of flying. Having said that, I’m a go-big-or-go-home girl, so I’m hoping to arrive by way of a transatlantic cruise ship. The challenge is finding one that won’t charge me double the original cost as a single-occupancy punishment.
It’s here that my Big Plans grow fuzzy. Outside of returning Paris, I have no other European commitments to fulfill. My first trip abroad was meticulously researched and scheduled, but this time I’m under no pressure and have no deadlines holding me back.
I’m seriously thinking about doing 100KM of Spain’s Pilgrim Trail, partially to see if I can, and partially to obtain that precious certificate the pilgrims get, absolving them of all sins forever and always amen. I’m envisioning a place for it on my wall, next to my diploma – I like the symbolism of two pieces of paper that cost me a lot of money and effort but which are both absolutely useless and impractical.
Other possibilities? I know of places that I’d like to see again: Barcelona, Rome, Stockholm, Bratislava, more of Norway. And there are places I’d like to see for the first time: Normandy, Portugal, Tallinn, and St. Petersburg, though these last two might be out of my Romance-language league.
The great thing is, I’ll be free of almost all my commitments. Work and mortgage will be history; my grandmother’s house in Glasgow can accomodate me during the hotter months, when travel is too hot and too expensive; and I have an EU passport which gives me flexibility of movement and the ability to take a job if my travel or cat-sitting expenses get the better of me.
So now it’s all out in the open. The next challenge is to make good on these promises to myself!