In the borderlands

Borderlands are always tense places. And we’re now living in that netherworld between ‘here’ and ‘there’.

Three weeks until we go: the house is sold (although we’re still in it and the gory details are yet to be fully resolved), bags are bought and have been trial-packed multiple times; itineraries have been given the sort of attention usually reserved for a lavish wedding celebration. And yet we’re still here. The boys go to school. Work still rolls round. Commitments must be fulfilled.

Yet, everyone knows we’re leaving, so there’s no medium- or long-term planning happening. There’s no courses for the kids with their friends. No New Year’s Eve parties. No play-dates in the holidays.

Out of all the time we’ve been planning this, I’m finding this the most tense. Until now it was all a bit theoretical, but now it’s suddenly close enough to be real. Simultaneously, there are a slew of organisatonal details that can no longer be put off: utilities, bank accounts, schooling, mail re-direction, and on and on.

We are neither here, nor there. But when I put the two in the balance, the bulk of my thinking puts me far more ‘there’ than ‘here’ – and negotiating with Telstra to have the phone cut off is peculiarly tricky when, in your mind, you’re sitting beside a pool in Singapore.