That's that, mattress man

Okay, we're done, it's all in an envelope, ready to go tomorrow morning. Tonight was supposed to be quick and easy, just attach the photos and we're done, but it was actually very stressful, like applying to the college of your dreams, intensified 1,000 times. All of the moving and everything we've done up to now is basically dependent on the safe arrival and acceptance of this envelope. If for some reason I'm rejected as a sponsor or our application is otherwise deemed unworthy, we're basically moving back to Finland.
And so it was strange that, amidst all my hyper-organized control-freaking tonight, I found myself suddenly longing to be back there. It was a totally inappropriate moment for an attack of homesickness, if there ever was one. I think I miss the ease of it, the security of the happy impermanence that was life there. I wonder if I should have listened to the part of me that, when we were really actually uprooting and moving, was telling me to stay. I can think of as many neighborhoods there as here that I would love to live in, and I don't need anyone's permission to do so.
I know all of this is knee-jerk against the insecurity of our position here. I have specific goals, dreams, fears for our future, and I don't want to be told that they can't happen based on someone else's idea of of who can live here and who can't. I want a house and a family, and a good job for my man – so we can both have fulfilling careers rather than just one of us. I want a holiday so we can visit his folks or get sun. That's pretty much it. And that's all in this large yet surprisingly skinny envelope. So now I have to mail it and just wait. Ten months or so and then life can begin again. Mail it and figure out what to do in the meantime.