Why am I so antsy about the possibility of a job that might happen in no less than 4 months time?
Everytime I go to sleep or have nothing else on my mind, I think about so many things! I still haven't told my father. I'd have to get rid of a lot of furniture, clothes, and stuff. I'd have to pack up a 1300 sqft house and move into a maybe 700 sqft apartment. It's almost 2000 miles from the only home I've ever known. What about the cats? What about my parents? Would I have to get a new car/vehicle that has 4 wheel drive for the winters? What if they don't like me? What are the allergies like up there? Could I make new friends? Would I be able to keep in touch with the old ones? Arrggghhhh!!!
And yet, I still can't wait to go.