I didn't sleep last night for several reasons. But, before we get into that, a little visual for you:
I fully admit, I did have a bit of a wobble yesterday. I am still incredibly psyched to go - but the prospect of entering a country abuzz with rocket fire is giving me some pause for thought.
Last night was horrible, for several reasons:
- Sustained rocket fire and sirens - a lot of my friends spent the evening running back and forth to bomb shelters,
- I have almost fully packed up my flat, but there are so many boxes! How am I going to get them to the place I'm storing them, and stack them?!
- Ditto my suitcases. I have spent the past 3 evenings trying to wedge in all the stuff I'll need, chucking and donating as much as possible. The weight limit is 3 bags of 20kg. I'm up to two at 25kg and one at approx 27.
- It's my second last night with Corny. I know I should just 'suck it up', but in light of the topics I'll be discussing below, I am feeling worse than ever about the prospect of leaving him.
- My head and my heart are in two minds. My mum and even some of my friends are telling me to not go on Sunday, but to stay in England and wait it out a bit, as the situation has become much more intense in the past 2 days.
- The tenant to be moving in on Saturday - 'The Iranian' I referred to a few posts back - has been messing around my estate agents and not providing the requested documents. They have told him that unless he does so, and soon (ffs - I'm leaving the country in less than 4 days!), they're putting my flat back on the market. As such, I have two more viewings tomorrow, just as there are boxes and suitcases everywhere, no discernible signs of homeliness and the flat's a mess.
All of the above resulted in a sleepless night.
I am really confused, and very upset, at the idea that I'll be under constant rocket fire for possibly the first few months of my life in Israel. My mum has been calling me all day, telling me really awful things like, 'you know if you take a direct hit on a building, you'll die', and 'I don't know why you're so intent on going to live in a war zone', alongside other unsettling things which will not paint her in a good ligh, and I therefore don;t wish to repeat here. I know she is only trying to prevent me from going because she is scared, but when I feel awful enough (for other various reasons I won't be documenting here), this is the least helpful approach in which to communicate her feelings. She's even asked me to postpone my flight until the situation dies down - but this is an impossibility, as Ulpan begins on Monday.
Additionally, I've quit my job (my last day is tomorrow!) and I'm about to give away my beloved cat. Why on earth would I so readily do these things if I were to sit around, waiting for the situation to improve, for an incalculable amount of time?
What's also confusing is the blasé attitude of some Israelis towards the bombardment. I'm so confused - humour is the best way to deal with traumatic situations, but on the one hand, I have my mother prophesying doomsday, and on the other, this:
You know how mad I am because of these rockets? That was a my last inside-out salmon avocado sushi bite, and i dropped it on the carpet because of the alarm! It was a perfectly spiced and sauced bite! dammit! ruining our lives...
and this (which is informative at least):
and this, which is actually very funny, and must have elements of truth:
I'm not scared only of the rockets, but of making the wrong choice. This is a big enough life change to warrant some feelings of cold feet; when accented by the danger and uncertainty of rocket salvos, it's downright panic-inducing.
I can already feel that I'm in for another sleepless night.