It seems that 8 months is about the point when one settles, well certainly in my case. It is almost the amount of time it takes to grow a baby. Both have caused pain, joy and nausea but I think even though slightly premature, the baby is born, swaddled in its cot and reasonably happy.
I think I am settled finally because I have nothing to say. I read somewhere that Adele has writers block caused by bliss. Apparently she is too happy to write her trademark heart wrenching uber-ballads. Pardon my arrogance for likening myself to this most talented chanteuse but I think I am suffering from the same plight. I am most certainly not in a state of bliss but I think I am now comfortable in whatever this is I am comfortable in.
The kids are settled at school. I have made some lovely friends at our condo. I am enjoying my Pilates classes even though I seem to have become their official studio idiot. I think it started when I was doing a hamstring stretch a few weeks ago and shouted "you are killing me" which my teacher and classmates thought was very funny and ever since been the class doofus. I was serious when I said he was killing me by the way. They were kind enough to tell me the class was not the same without me when I missed it one week and then proceeded to tease me for the next hour when I groaned in pain and could not remember which springs to put on the reformer. Still, it's a jolly class even though they think I am a bimbo.
I have also applied for a job but as it is on a submarine I am not allowed to say very much about it. I should hear if I have been shortlisted for an interview within six months although whether I get it will be entirely dependent on whether I can convince my interviewers that I am fluent in Arabic. I feel reasonably qualified so hopefully I have a chance although if I do get it I can guarantee I will be thinking of ways to get out of it equally quickly.
In the meantime I will potter along in a straight line with my quieter but pleasant life out here. I do need to find something more constructive to do at some point if this job on Red October does not come to fruition.
I will continue to make my posters to hang around my so called "bohemian" neighbourhood reminding people that being bohemian does not mean you don't have to pick up your dog shit. My friend said that she found a bag of dog poo hanging off the tree in her front garden.
Other than that, I will continue to wonder why other ladies smell nicer than me and hope my writers block will be unblocked sometime soon and I will be back with something of interest. Toodlehoo and peace out.
