It’s been a strange six weeks since I hung up living in America and moved halfway across the world. I’ve tried to settle into a routine that doesn’t consist of classes and cramming papers into the wee-hours of mornings when I consider running into traffic a realistic solution to my procrastination, only to close my eyes for a second and lose a few desperate hours that I’ll never get back. I knew that this wasn’t going to be easy, I knew that going in and I still know that now. It hasn’t been easy. I’ve picked up some friends while I’ve been here and it definitely helps but not being able to handle basic daily tasks without my phone is bothersome. I try my best still and I hope my efforts show.
I hope to do a housing tour soon, but that’s still up in the air as I’m waiting to get certain things replaced and fixed before I allow anyone to really see it. So you’ll have to take my word that I live in a 2 bedroom, 2 story apartment with a garden. It’s nothing to look at from the outside, in fact it looks like it could be abandoned and boy do I hope the apartment next door is actually empty. I’ve found that here, I’m constantly doing something and finding time to sit and write is hard. My battery is constantly drained and recharging fully feels like wasted time. But the important thing is that I feel okay, for the most part. It’s not something I’ve been able to say in a while. I’ve only cried two or three times since I’ve been here and that was when everything just felt super overwhelming. So I’m getting better. I live in a beautiful place, it is honestly beautiful. It is as though here, if there can be a tree, there is a tree.
The view from my second story office window is populated by rolling hills drenched with greenery, the tops of traditional houses, constant wisps of mist and clouds, and solar panels. There is a house there as well, but I’m not sure anyone lives there. The tin on the roof sings me the songs of it’s people in the dead of night when it’s windy and the broken washing machine stares at me when I hang my laundry out to dry. The only light I ever see is my own being reflected back.
It’s eerie at night, especially as I can hear my neighbors cough in the house across the street from my living room. Insulation is poor here, but it’s lucky I’m from the state I am or I wouldn’t have the knowledge I do when it comes to winter. I have a couple of posts planned out already, I’ve tried to go adventuring as much as possible and I hope to get those sorted. One of my new friends has been careful to photograph our activities together and she’s been gracious to allow me to use her photos until the time that I can secure my own camera. I’m not the best but she thinks I don’t do half bad. I’ve done three or four short adventures and soon I hope to be able to also start doing videos again. I think almost a year since the two week hell of video editing is enough to get me moving again. I want to show my tiny town to the world.
Oh, and before I go, Hello to anyone currently looking at this blog trying to figure out how to structure posts for WRIT371. I also had no idea, but GOOD LUCK!
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