The Immigration Countdown is on. I start my new job exactly one month from today. I move in 28 days. I'm planning on "presenting" myself at the border one week from today. The cardboard fairy looks like s/he threw up on my apartment. The cat has no idea what's going on and honestly, her owner isn't much further ahead in that department.

I talked to my immigration representative earlier this week and he says, "this shouldn't be too much work on either of our parts." Buddy, I'm counting on that. It seems like I'm anxious 24-7 trying to pull the logistics of this together. At this point, it's the "what-ifs" that are doing it to me. You know the "what-ifs," right? What if the border guard delegated to issue work permits is homophobic? What if I forget some vital piece of paper? What if they say no? This whole process could test even the nerves of both Christ and the Buddha.

In theory, I know what I should do to "interrupt" the madness that is running rampant in my head. For crissakes, I work with people around these issues for a living! I guess if nothing else, I'm developing a whole new empathy for my client's struggles. How's that for a reframe?