My First Year in the USA

It’s almost a year since I closed the door of my Irish apartment for the very last time. I didn’t feel ready, with so many things in mind I still wanted or should do, but I also knew I’d never feel ready, so it didn’t really matter that much. I still remember the mix of tiredness (since I foolishly didn’t sleep for my two last nights back there), excitement, and stress. Moving from one continent to another have something of finality like diving head first from a cliff: you don’t get to go back.