Chicago. And not the musical.

So, Dwayne came home yesterday announcing out of the blue that he'd spoken with his boss' boss and she had told him there may be a job opportunity for him later this year - in Chicago.

The US has always been a vague possibility in the form of Seattle where the head office is. Never a real thing though, just a fantasy that we bring up from time to time without ever actually acting on it. But here he randomly springs CHICAGO on me.

If this had been before we came to Australia, and certainly before we had kids, my reaction would have been: "Excellent, you book the ticket, I'll start packing!"

But as things are, suddenly I'm like a deer staring into headlights. Even though this is just maybe, possibly, potentially an opportunity, I start going things over in my head. What would we do with all our stuff? Ship some over, sure, but we'd have to store the majority. Where could we store things like bed and sofa without them getting infested with mice and cockroaches? And what about school for Daisy? And would I be able to work there?

I woke up in the middle of the night and thought: "What on Earth do we do with the car?!" (And, more traumatically, in the wee hours of the morning I dreamt that Donald Trump was my father).

It's too much, I can't handle the logistics of this maybe, possible, potential move. If it actually becomes reality we can't say no. We have no real reason to and we would forever wonder what if. I almost wish it won't happen, just so that I never have to make that decision to start all over again.