Ever since I made the decision to move, I've been going through a roller coaster ride of emotions. In the manic/excited phase, I dream about travelling across Europe, spending time with Beans and experiencing a wonderful world of new opportunities and encounters.
On the flip side, there are also the phases of abject terror where I envision myself having to peddle my wares on a street corner to pay the rent and (it gets worse) not even managing to get enough that way coz I'm not hooker-like enough! (I AM my own worse enemy aren't I?)
My most recent fear? That I'm nowhere NEAR stylish enough to live in Europe.
I told this to the Lady Killer when I met him last week. My extent of style is throwing on earrings or a necklace. That barely counts as style!
To which he replied, You're moving to Scotland love. That barely counts as Europe!