After getting over the initial shock of receiving my get out letter last Friday (just five days ago – this has been the longest five days ever), it has been hard to pinpoint how I am feeling about everything.
Mostly I have been feeling like I need a grown-up. Sort of like when you would get bullied as a kid and got a parent to step in for you. I’ve been wanting someone smarter and stronger than me to hold my hand and assuredly walk me through all of this. Someone with all the answers. Someone with authority. Having a lawyer and my MP on my side is helping alleviate this feeling, but I still wish I could have my dad (or my moms – even more powerful, she is) beat up the UKBA’s dad.
The other feeling is harder to pinpoint. I think it can best be summed up like this though: When I was showering this morning I looked at my half-empty bottles of shampoo and conditioner and wondered if it would be worth it to buy more. If my life in the UK will even carry on long enough to warrant buying another set.
That’s a gross feeling. Walking around my lovely little flat, looking at all the bits and pieces I’ve gathered over the last five years, and wondering the best way of getting rid of it all if I have to.
My life, pending. It’ll be good to get living it again, no matter what the outcome.