I haven’t disappeared, I’ve just been caught up busy with work, meeting friends and travelling.
For two weeks, I’m at home. Home home. Sunny, tropical home. I can’t even express how happy I am to be here and to be surrounded by the love of my family and friends. The feeling is so familiar and so great. I barely have time for myself, but I enjoy every single minute I have here and how absolutely easy it is to slip back into life here.
Everything works here.
I know who to go to and where to go to and how in the event when I need something.
Everyone is all smiles and efficient.
There’s actually internet reception in the underground.
It’s convenient – 24 hour supermarkets, late night food places, pubs nearby.
Incredible, sunny weather.
Delicious, soulful food.
A home that’s a real home.
Sometimes, I find it so difficult to reconcile my life overseas, where I spend almost 365 days in a year at, with my life at home. I feel like I belong at both places – one where I am still finding myself and one where I am completely at home. I have, on numerous occasions, thought about what I really want to do in five years’ time. I want to do so many things, too many things, but I have to think about my parents all the time. They’re not getting any younger. How do I reconcile what I want to achieve in life versus what’s really important and top priority?