It has been a long time since I left Australia behind for what was planned to be a year and has now almost ticked in to 7! Not at all what I intended. It seems no matter how much I plan for the minutiae of life it is the big life decisions that I completely fail to have any impact on.
At the moment I am truly trying to answer the question: time to be home?
How do you know when it is time? How do you know what the next job should be?
Any advice gratefully received!
Posted in Living in London
Sundays come with such a bitter sweet edge that develops over the course of the day. I don’t think it is just me.
The mornings are lovely. You have had over 24 hours to do as you please, to see friends, to read the newspaper and sip coffee. As the day goes on you get ever closer to this very time that I am tapping out this blog.
Outside is black, dinner has been had and you start to think about the week ahead. The list of meetings that will consume, the tasks that aren’t fun but need to get done and all those other things that will suddenly become important.
It is not inspiring.
Ever had the feeling that you have missed the detail in the invitation, slightly misjudged the dress code or possibly laughed at a joke that no body else thought was funny?
The first birthdays, and those that follow, feel just like this. I come without any of the requisite accessories. No husband-partner-boyfriend. No 1-2-3 year old. No sign of pregnancy. No gross stories about bodily fluids or advice about mothercare bargains.
My friends are lovely, they make me feel welcome and goodness knows there should be an event to mark the survival of both the parent and the child!
But…It is just like turning up at a football match in 6inch heels and a ball gown!
|
