This week has felt a bit difficult at times. I remember feeling exhausted after doing the simplest of things at the beginning of my time in Paris. I'd talk with my fellow anglophone friends about how it couldn't be right to feel quite so tired after doing so relatively little.
I'm feeling the same thing here. I think it's because you can't do anything on autopilot. Everything takes that extra thought and effort: taking clothes to the laundry to be washed; buying food; changing money, getting something to eat. Everything needs thought and attention and as the supersonic hotel we're staying in is quite a walk from the MRT it also takes a good 20 minute walk before normality. (I am excluding the shopping centre across the road with it's useful selection of shops like Prada, Chanel and Ferrari for me to browse in).
The DFP is working very hard with conference calls at all kinds of anti social hours of the day. I am sorry to say that occasionally we are not being as nice to each other as we ought which increases both our stress levels instead of decreasing them as we should be. Though he's not really telling me very much about what is going on it's very clear he's in an avalanche of newness and work. Of course I am too. Mine feels less legitimate somehow. But in the same way he has to order his time and work out what his job is, so do I. Except, and I know I joke about this, my job is exactly being an ex-pat wife: finding a flat, finding furniture and removals for it and trying to help him feel a bit less stressed too. As someone who has always considered herself a feminist with my own work as part of my raison d'etre its a very weird, disconcerting position to be in.
I'm doing things I've never done before. Measuring rooms and lifts. Working out if the sofa I want to buy will fit through the front door. Getting quotes on removals. This is also of course because I have so effectively managed to avoid most kinds of house related responsibility up until now.
I have to go. Today's agenda for me includes the highlights of (da da dah dah!!) taking the washing to the laundrette, collecting my 'long term visitors pass' (I don't get the more desirable 'dependent's pass' because we're not married) and going to view a large, red velvet sofa. Enjoy your day as I'm sure I will enjoy mine.
I'm feeling the same thing here. I think it's because you can't do anything on autopilot. Everything takes that extra thought and effort: taking clothes to the laundry to be washed; buying food; changing money, getting something to eat. Everything needs thought and attention and as the supersonic hotel we're staying in is quite a walk from the MRT it also takes a good 20 minute walk before normality. (I am excluding the shopping centre across the road with it's useful selection of shops like Prada, Chanel and Ferrari for me to browse in).
The DFP is working very hard with conference calls at all kinds of anti social hours of the day. I am sorry to say that occasionally we are not being as nice to each other as we ought which increases both our stress levels instead of decreasing them as we should be. Though he's not really telling me very much about what is going on it's very clear he's in an avalanche of newness and work. Of course I am too. Mine feels less legitimate somehow. But in the same way he has to order his time and work out what his job is, so do I. Except, and I know I joke about this, my job is exactly being an ex-pat wife: finding a flat, finding furniture and removals for it and trying to help him feel a bit less stressed too. As someone who has always considered herself a feminist with my own work as part of my raison d'etre its a very weird, disconcerting position to be in.
I'm doing things I've never done before. Measuring rooms and lifts. Working out if the sofa I want to buy will fit through the front door. Getting quotes on removals. This is also of course because I have so effectively managed to avoid most kinds of house related responsibility up until now.
I have to go. Today's agenda for me includes the highlights of (da da dah dah!!) taking the washing to the laundrette, collecting my 'long term visitors pass' (I don't get the more desirable 'dependent's pass' because we're not married) and going to view a large, red velvet sofa. Enjoy your day as I'm sure I will enjoy mine.
hurrah! loving your tales, descriptions and vivid intro to ex-pat wife life-dom!
ReplyDeleteso whaich sofa did ya get? Will it fit through the door? Will the ladies from all over south east asia help you get it in!?
LOVE:
sara & flora