I'm trying to swallow the familiar knot of panic rising in my throat and tying up my stomach.

Ignoring the stress over the fact that my incomplete, saved visa application was unceremoniously deleted and I haven't received a response from the website's tech support, and ignoring the fact that I still haven't received a letter from my lender saying that I'm covered for tuition and life expenses (even though I called two weeks ago and demanded that they send me another one), the knot of panic is something far more...special. It started forming as I logged off my work computer and remembered that I was coming home to this:





I'm trying to remain positive. It'll all work out fine. It'll be fixed and paid for by insurance and I'll still make money off the sale. But I'm not very good at remaining positive. What if the insurance doesn't pay? What if they decide I was partly at fault? What if I don't have time to settle it all before I leave? How will I hang out with my friends tomorrow night, and go to Vancouver to visit my grandma and grandpa and aunts this weekend?

On the bus ride home from work, listening to Russell Brand's radio show and gazing out at the pouring rain, trying not to think about the mess pictured above, I daydreamed about London. There's something comforting about the thought of trudging through London rain to make it home to a cozy apartment where I can put on warm pj's and brew a nice cup of tea and listen to British radio or watch British TV and not even remember that I once had a car that got smooshed. (Actually, this is the second car I've owned that got smooshed, but who's counting?) In a couple months, this will all be ancient history.