13 months ago my husband a.k.a the I.T. Genius (his words) was seconded for six months to the Atlanta office of the Comany he worked for at that time, he would be provided with an apartment, I would be going with him and we would come back to the U.K. every four weeks or so. I was 57 at the time, not at all adventurous, adverse to change, anxious and occasionally suffered from depression. To say I was scared is an understatement. As it turned out I had the time of my life. Before we went I had decided to write a blog, partly as therapy, a way of addressing my worries out loud. In the end I had a fabulous time, was to busy enjoying myself and didn't bother with the blog, something I regret although I did keep a half hearted journal.
I'm now 58, still don't think of my self as adventurous, still adverse to change etc etc. The I.T. Genius has changed jobs and will be working in the less glamorous location of Manchester for six months. We are currently sorting a rented apartment and hope to move in the next week or so. He is currently doing a weekly commute. We will still return to our home in South Bucks every few weekends. Despite that this move is far less complicated in many respects, no nine hour flights, no worries about medical insurance, no driving on the wrong side of the road etc etc I still feel equally as aprehensive as I did when we moved to Atlanta which is a bit mad to say the least.
This time I will blog.
