Je reviens.

My red soft-sided suitcase is somewhere in France, and that's the most I can tell you.  When I handed the suitcase to the nice man at Tulsa Int'l Airport, I naturally expected it to touch down in Montpellier at the same time I did.  Life did not meet my expectations.

In fact, this entire trip is somewhat unexpected.

At the time that I resigned my position in the UK, I struggled to picture myself returning to an office, staring at a screen for hours on end.  I had the idea that I would make a complete career change - to baking or event planning or film production.  But in the end, I met some people who were particularly interested in all the things I used to know and who were willing to pay for that knowledge.  They were also interested in sending me straight to France to work with my former colleagues.  And given a job description which could not have been filled by anyone but me, I agreed to take the position.

As I was eating dinner (and trying not to spill on my only set of clothes), I came across this passage in GK Chesterton's Orthodoxy which I think explains why I chose in October something I didn't not intend to choose in February.

[N]early all people I have ever met in this western society in which I live
would agree to the general proposition that we need this life
of practical romance; the combination of something that is strange
with something that is secure.  We need so to view the world as to
combine an idea of wonder and an idea of welcome.  We need to be
happy in this wonderland without once being merely comfortable.

I expect my new position to be both secure and strange.  The position is permanent but the contracts I am working on will change.  For the moment, I am working with my former employer but not in the same office or the same role.  Tomorrow morning, I will shake hands with friends and collaborate with strangers.

And I have no expectations about what I will be wearing when I do it.