Stuck!
Caution - contains whining and self-pity.
It's a month today since the earthquake. We are well over the adrenalin of the first few days when being alive still felt like a bit of a triumph and lots of things are starting to get normal - ish. We have power and water and a toilet which flushes (though advice as to whether to use the latter is conflicting). Jamie has work to go to. But besides that nothing is normal and I'm struggling to get to grips with the fact that it won't be for a very long time. It's not just that the old normal isn't coming back (and doesn't that suck, boys and girls) but even any kind of new normal is months, if not years, away.
The kids' school is behind the cordon and it looks like they will not be returning to that site. They are currently 'borrowing' a campus out at Halswell and, while it is a lovely spot and it's great to have the community together, I am very aware that this arrangement is just for a few weeks and then they will get uprooted again and again and again before the school can move into a permanent home. I can't help but wonder if a different design and a different location will affect how the school is able to live its special character. It may all turn out wonderfully but the uncertainty allows fear to creep in. Transport issues mean that parent-helping at school is an all-or-nothing affair so, for the moment, I'm taking the "all" option and staying at school every day.
The most frustrating thing (in a sea of really frustrating things) is that every, single, fucking decision I need to make, from the huge (Do we buy a new house? Should I go back to university) to the tiny (where shall we eat lunch?) hinges on stuff that I have no control over and no ability to foresee. It feels as if all our lives are on hold and it is very hard to picture any sort of future. There is no feeling of moving forward (even though I know, intellectually that things are improving) just the same grey day over and over.
It's a month today since the earthquake. We are well over the adrenalin of the first few days when being alive still felt like a bit of a triumph and lots of things are starting to get normal - ish. We have power and water and a toilet which flushes (though advice as to whether to use the latter is conflicting). Jamie has work to go to. But besides that nothing is normal and I'm struggling to get to grips with the fact that it won't be for a very long time. It's not just that the old normal isn't coming back (and doesn't that suck, boys and girls) but even any kind of new normal is months, if not years, away.
The kids' school is behind the cordon and it looks like they will not be returning to that site. They are currently 'borrowing' a campus out at Halswell and, while it is a lovely spot and it's great to have the community together, I am very aware that this arrangement is just for a few weeks and then they will get uprooted again and again and again before the school can move into a permanent home. I can't help but wonder if a different design and a different location will affect how the school is able to live its special character. It may all turn out wonderfully but the uncertainty allows fear to creep in. Transport issues mean that parent-helping at school is an all-or-nothing affair so, for the moment, I'm taking the "all" option and staying at school every day.
The most frustrating thing (in a sea of really frustrating things) is that every, single, fucking decision I need to make, from the huge (Do we buy a new house? Should I go back to university) to the tiny (where shall we eat lunch?) hinges on stuff that I have no control over and no ability to foresee. It feels as if all our lives are on hold and it is very hard to picture any sort of future. There is no feeling of moving forward (even though I know, intellectually that things are improving) just the same grey day over and over.