What am I doing today? Searching for jobs in Germany. More decisively so than I have, ever… The thought has occurred to me in the last days that if I have the courage to go to Paris on my own, it seems likely that I have the courage too to move back home…
I’ve been reading around on forums for people returning – the papers I need, what I’ve got to organise…
The hardest part really seems to be the job search.
Oh, and of course I’ve been browsing what flats are available for rent… And I keep being amazed at the fact that I can rent a 3 bedroom flat back in Germany, no problem, for the money that I spend here for my tiny little room in someone else’s home (which in comparison to other places nearby would be considered low rent).
And from what I read in the forums, I’m not the only one who is caught by the apparently inherent pull to move home… To the land where everything is clean and organised and a bit more boring than elsewhere because of it, where the food is so much better, where there’s rent control… Where people worry about insurance more than anywhere else in the world. Where I trust my dentist and am only half as scared to land in hospital for whatever reason than I am in the UK…
It is a strange thing, this ache and drive to go home.
I have friends there. Still. After all this time, we are still connected and interested in each other’s lives and happiness.
And, of course, family.
I’m not sure really what that means or will mean.
In the end, I’m thinking of moving home not because they want me to and keep telling me that I should, but because I want to… Bit hard for me to accept that the result is the same… But it’s an essential difference.
There is an inner “wall of carefulness” towards my family in me, separating me from them, keeping boundaries. But more has been said. There’s room to move.
A lot really hangs in finding work that I enjoy, at least to a reasonable level.
Apart from thinking about all that, and trying not to think of Monday when I have to go back to work here and of all that will await me there, I’m editing my holiday photos, doing laundry, listening to Harry Potter… (I bought the first volume in French while in Paris – adds a challenge to the familiarity…)
I’m pretty sure it will all be okay. Including Monday. There are worse things that could happen than my to do list overflowing.
I’ve still got my birthday to celebrate with friends here, something to look forward to. And I’ll be starting a Creative Writing course in mid-September.
And I’ve got plans to make. Let’s see if the courage lasts.