Remember that time I waited a whole nine months until everything was finalised before I shared my. 'Big News' that I was moving to Abu Dhabi? Those nights I sat itching to hit publish on a hysteria riddled declaration that I wasn't going to have to spend another cold, dark winter in Finland? Okay, you probably don't know about that last one but there are pinky swears to be had that would confirm what I'm saying is true.
Remember when I went and tweeted that we'd booked our flights and set our 1st of October deadline, by which point we'd be somewhere above the clouds and getting ready to embrace the balmy 45 degree heat of the United Arab Emirates?
Well it turns out someone had already squatted over my chips and was getting ready to piss all over them!
Apologies for the visual but when you've waited so long for something and then someone swoops in at the last minute to snatch it away from you, emotions are bound to run high. It's kinda like someone swiping your Gregg's cheese & onion pasty on cheat day. Legs will be broken.
As it stands, we're still very much going to be moving to Abu Dhabi, although my dramatic display is likely to have made you believe otherwise. I have a penchant for overreacting, and cheese with jam on it at the moment but that's a whole other story for a different day. No, the issue seems to be that not one single person on this lump of rock we call Earth, has any idea how to co-ordinate the move of two humans and two guinea pigs from Finland to the UAE, most notably the people whose job it is to assist with such a procedure.
Given the fact that my grasp of the Finnish language extends to sausage and chips, beer and most recently, arse, I feel like a sitting duck, relying on everyone else to sort my life out whilst I just lie around at home and post pictures of my guinea pigs on Snapchat. If alcohol and I didn't have such a tense relationship at the moment, you could bet that I'd be found high-tailing it around my local park, swilling gin and riding my one-legged unicorn. In my head. Obviously.
So, as it stands, we've had to push moving day back by a week. Not convenient considering I've packed all but a handful of t-shirts and clean undies. I can also feel the cold creeping in and the days shortening. It's like Finland knows the end is nigh and wants to push me out of the door, atrociously dressed and flu-riddled. I've explained to Scott that an extra week is my upper limit and anything past that will most certainly tip me over the edge. If we don't make it out before the minus temps creep in, I'm afraid to admit that we may not make it out at all.
The clock is ticking. New moving date is the 8th of October. Send me strength... and chocolate!