New
So, how has life in the UK been treating me these past few months? Quite fine, actually. I'm still getting my head around some bits about how they do (and don't do) stuff here...normally the latter. Work is fine as well. I notice I'm pushing out material more and hesitating less. It's kinda funny--it's like whatever it was that was holding me back is either left where it was or I just woke up one morning a "new person". But that's not exactly true.
I'd like to think that although life is okay at the moment, I'm still in the adjustment phase. Finally being employed by a company I used to work with as a contractor entails more expectation from the higher ups and they expect nothing less in return. That is fine, too, and perhaps quite challenging than normal.
In terms of relationships, the closest relative I have in the house is my husband. My family--my blood kin--is left seven thousand miles away. In essence, I am alone. That is not exactly true, either.
As I catch up with work, I also catch up with what's going on with family members now. In a way, I find myself getting involved with the upturn and/or downturn of their lives. My world finds it refreshing and unsettling at the same time, because I'm not used to taking sides. X says one thing that involves Y, but Y says something quite different from what X says, stirring Z to say something to me, that then compells me to either talk to X or Y or both at the same time and place, which can be awkward. And they are. Horribly so.
Chris and I are also looking into moving to a new place. Personally, one where there would be more sun shining down and birds chirping. I would love it in the mornings, the same way I loved waking up to such sights and sounds back in my bedroom at my nan's. At one point, I thought my day wouldn't be ruined. I think I have yet to prove I'm wrong about this.
Perhaps what I miss the most is the sitting down. Just the sitting down, appearing to do nothing but stare at an object or patch of sun on the wall, but your mind is actually working like mad. You sit and think. And feel. Because as much as we'd like to think that this is a cerebral activity, it most exclusively isn't. I feel when I think. And I think when I feel. I think to separate the two is just inhuman. And I don't want to be that.
And the prasing. Oh God, the prasing. How can I go on each day, breathing, walking, eating, and not praise? Can I really call that living?
Much less "okay"?
I'd like to think that although life is okay at the moment, I'm still in the adjustment phase. Finally being employed by a company I used to work with as a contractor entails more expectation from the higher ups and they expect nothing less in return. That is fine, too, and perhaps quite challenging than normal.
In terms of relationships, the closest relative I have in the house is my husband. My family--my blood kin--is left seven thousand miles away. In essence, I am alone. That is not exactly true, either.
As I catch up with work, I also catch up with what's going on with family members now. In a way, I find myself getting involved with the upturn and/or downturn of their lives. My world finds it refreshing and unsettling at the same time, because I'm not used to taking sides. X says one thing that involves Y, but Y says something quite different from what X says, stirring Z to say something to me, that then compells me to either talk to X or Y or both at the same time and place, which can be awkward. And they are. Horribly so.
Chris and I are also looking into moving to a new place. Personally, one where there would be more sun shining down and birds chirping. I would love it in the mornings, the same way I loved waking up to such sights and sounds back in my bedroom at my nan's. At one point, I thought my day wouldn't be ruined. I think I have yet to prove I'm wrong about this.
Perhaps what I miss the most is the sitting down. Just the sitting down, appearing to do nothing but stare at an object or patch of sun on the wall, but your mind is actually working like mad. You sit and think. And feel. Because as much as we'd like to think that this is a cerebral activity, it most exclusively isn't. I feel when I think. And I think when I feel. I think to separate the two is just inhuman. And I don't want to be that.
And the prasing. Oh God, the prasing. How can I go on each day, breathing, walking, eating, and not praise? Can I really call that living?
Much less "okay"?