Homeless again
8 years ago
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
The home stretch
I’m writing this from my bed where I’m dosed up on pain killers, fluffed up with pillows and generally feeling quite down and sorry for myself. Boo to that!
I won’t go into the boring details but I’ve ‘been poorly’ as the British like to say and the timing couldn’t be worse. I’m currently half way through my last week of work in London before three weeks of adventure-packed and fun-filled travels and then my return to Australia!!
That’s right, the prodigal daughter is going home. This is partly because my visa is almost up and partly because I sense it’s time for me to start the next chapter of my life. Don’t get my wrong, it’s going to be very difficult to leave the high-life on London and my amazing friends who have become like family.
However the fact that my visa options are limited and my old employer in Brisbane will only keep my job open for my until the end of the year anyway, kind of helped sway the decision to go home.
It’s taken me a couple of months to come to terms with not only leaving London and finishing this amazing part of my life, but also facing the reality that I’m looking down the barrel of 30-yeas-of-age and still nowhere near being ‘settled down’.
But what a send off I’ve got planned over the next three weeks! One of my oldest and dearest friends, Krista, and her lovely cousin Ben arrive in London this Satuday, for two weeks. During that time we’ve got holidays booked to Paris (my favorite! This will be my fourth visit in the past 12 months!) and Dublin. Then, I leave London for a week in Hong Kong with my lovely friends Donovan and Jen, and my sister who is flying up for a spot of shopping, sightseeing and to ‘escort’ me home.
I just can’t wait to be home. Can’t wait to see my family and friends and be thee for all the moments that I’ve been missing out on over the past 14 months.
So watch this space… I’ll try my best to keep you updated and am also predicting a suitably dramatic ‘crash’ late September when it hits me that London is behind me, which should be entertaining if nothing else.
I won’t go into the boring details but I’ve ‘been poorly’ as the British like to say and the timing couldn’t be worse. I’m currently half way through my last week of work in London before three weeks of adventure-packed and fun-filled travels and then my return to Australia!!
That’s right, the prodigal daughter is going home. This is partly because my visa is almost up and partly because I sense it’s time for me to start the next chapter of my life. Don’t get my wrong, it’s going to be very difficult to leave the high-life on London and my amazing friends who have become like family.
However the fact that my visa options are limited and my old employer in Brisbane will only keep my job open for my until the end of the year anyway, kind of helped sway the decision to go home.
It’s taken me a couple of months to come to terms with not only leaving London and finishing this amazing part of my life, but also facing the reality that I’m looking down the barrel of 30-yeas-of-age and still nowhere near being ‘settled down’.
But what a send off I’ve got planned over the next three weeks! One of my oldest and dearest friends, Krista, and her lovely cousin Ben arrive in London this Satuday, for two weeks. During that time we’ve got holidays booked to Paris (my favorite! This will be my fourth visit in the past 12 months!) and Dublin. Then, I leave London for a week in Hong Kong with my lovely friends Donovan and Jen, and my sister who is flying up for a spot of shopping, sightseeing and to ‘escort’ me home.
I just can’t wait to be home. Can’t wait to see my family and friends and be thee for all the moments that I’ve been missing out on over the past 14 months.
So watch this space… I’ll try my best to keep you updated and am also predicting a suitably dramatic ‘crash’ late September when it hits me that London is behind me, which should be entertaining if nothing else.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
More than just a number?
Oh. My. God. It just hit me that I'm going to be 29 tomorrow. I know that sounds stupid and it's just a number and all that but mum just sent me an email saying 'what was I doing 29 years ago today' and the number 29 just leaped off the page and slapped me across the face. Hard.
I and am practically hyper-ventilating. I’m clutching for a brown paper bag but all I can find is an M&S shopping bag full of used snotty flu tissues and the remnants of yesterday’s ham and egg roll.
I didn't really think about it before. But I am NOT ready to be 29.
29-year-old women have their shit together.... I don't.
29-year-old women act like 'ladies' and 'grown ups'..... I don't
29-year-old women have partners and children and mortgages and sensible cars and backyard bbqs and manicured nails and expensive vacuum cleaners and nice coats and get tipsy after one glass of chardonnay and meet their other lady friends for cups of tea not meet their ‘posse at the pub for pints’ on school nights!
29-year-old women don't sprain their ankles every 6 weeks and wear fraying, threadbare ‘homeless jackets’ and fashion straps for their handbag out of broken belts and have chipped nail polish and moan like walruses when their hungover and pretend to be wheel-chair bound to get better seats for concerts (well, I never actually got to do this because Michael Jackson died and ruined out plan – may be RIP).
They aren’t surrogate mothers to shark esky bags from Sweden still fantasising over causing grievous bodily harm to ex-boyfriends and 15kg over weight and dossing in disgusting share houses where the shower leaks into the kitchen and you have to BYO own toilet paper when you go to the loo.
Why aren’t I a ‘lady’ by now, living in a lovely house in the suburbs, driving my kids to soccer practice in my SUV and going to bed at 9pm secure in the knowledge that there will always be milk in the fridge for my breakfast and my credit card debt will be paid off each month before I get charged interest.
I and am practically hyper-ventilating. I’m clutching for a brown paper bag but all I can find is an M&S shopping bag full of used snotty flu tissues and the remnants of yesterday’s ham and egg roll.
I didn't really think about it before. But I am NOT ready to be 29.
29-year-old women have their shit together.... I don't.
29-year-old women act like 'ladies' and 'grown ups'..... I don't
29-year-old women have partners and children and mortgages and sensible cars and backyard bbqs and manicured nails and expensive vacuum cleaners and nice coats and get tipsy after one glass of chardonnay and meet their other lady friends for cups of tea not meet their ‘posse at the pub for pints’ on school nights!
29-year-old women don't sprain their ankles every 6 weeks and wear fraying, threadbare ‘homeless jackets’ and fashion straps for their handbag out of broken belts and have chipped nail polish and moan like walruses when their hungover and pretend to be wheel-chair bound to get better seats for concerts (well, I never actually got to do this because Michael Jackson died and ruined out plan – may be RIP).
They aren’t surrogate mothers to shark esky bags from Sweden still fantasising over causing grievous bodily harm to ex-boyfriends and 15kg over weight and dossing in disgusting share houses where the shower leaks into the kitchen and you have to BYO own toilet paper when you go to the loo.
Why aren’t I a ‘lady’ by now, living in a lovely house in the suburbs, driving my kids to soccer practice in my SUV and going to bed at 9pm secure in the knowledge that there will always be milk in the fridge for my breakfast and my credit card debt will be paid off each month before I get charged interest.
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