Finally in the past couple of weeks something inside me has clicked and I've started to feel that I'm at home here, that I have a place in Singapore.
A few very silly things seem to have made the difference. I've bought saucepans and am able to cook whatever I feel like. This has resulted in a riot of casseroles, stocks and meat balls. Of course, typically, as soon as I bought them several different people told me about the fantastic wholesale saucepan restaurant suppliers they'd got theirs from. Why is it always like this? Probably because usually I don't start conversations about saucepans but have recently been saying, 'oh it's such a relief to finally have saucepans!'. Saucepans don't usually crop up in conversation, do they? Perhaps never in interesting conversation.
There have been graduations in settling in. We both definitely felt more at home as soon as we were in the flat. Then when our bikes and all those useful high heeled shoes arrived in our boxes from the UK there was another shift and now with saucepans and a hand-blender at last I am at home.
I have another more important reason as well. I've got a job. I'm going to be teaching drama to kids with a drama company here. I went for an interview on Thursday last week, observed all Saturday and received my formal offer today.
I feel validated. A huge, invisible weight has lifted off my heart. I've had a constant, low level, nagging kind of guilt about not working. An unemployment hangover. I've felt that I shouldn't be jaunting around Singapore visiting interesting places and that I ought to be sorting the flat out and applying for jobs. So I've been largely sorting and applying and not really jaunting. Which is right to some degree but was making me a bit miserable.
So a couple of weeks ago I took myself aside and had a stern talk with myself. I said I needed to be a bit nicer to myself. I needed to give myself some treats - trips to the cinema, swims in the pool, visits to art galleries. I should perhaps mention here that both the DFP and my mother have been saying this sort of thing for ages. The DFP, like all of humanity has his downsides, but has been hugely kind and supportive to me in my wildly fluctuating (and very annoying) states. He's told me I can aim higher, that I'm doing all right and that he'll support me as long as I need. I've continued to act like a crazy person. Let's not tell my future employers about any of this though, eh?
Anyhow, I'm making up for lost time now. So toodle-pip everyone. I'm off to the National Museum of Singapore!
A few very silly things seem to have made the difference. I've bought saucepans and am able to cook whatever I feel like. This has resulted in a riot of casseroles, stocks and meat balls. Of course, typically, as soon as I bought them several different people told me about the fantastic wholesale saucepan restaurant suppliers they'd got theirs from. Why is it always like this? Probably because usually I don't start conversations about saucepans but have recently been saying, 'oh it's such a relief to finally have saucepans!'. Saucepans don't usually crop up in conversation, do they? Perhaps never in interesting conversation.
There have been graduations in settling in. We both definitely felt more at home as soon as we were in the flat. Then when our bikes and all those useful high heeled shoes arrived in our boxes from the UK there was another shift and now with saucepans and a hand-blender at last I am at home.
I have another more important reason as well. I've got a job. I'm going to be teaching drama to kids with a drama company here. I went for an interview on Thursday last week, observed all Saturday and received my formal offer today.
I feel validated. A huge, invisible weight has lifted off my heart. I've had a constant, low level, nagging kind of guilt about not working. An unemployment hangover. I've felt that I shouldn't be jaunting around Singapore visiting interesting places and that I ought to be sorting the flat out and applying for jobs. So I've been largely sorting and applying and not really jaunting. Which is right to some degree but was making me a bit miserable.
So a couple of weeks ago I took myself aside and had a stern talk with myself. I said I needed to be a bit nicer to myself. I needed to give myself some treats - trips to the cinema, swims in the pool, visits to art galleries. I should perhaps mention here that both the DFP and my mother have been saying this sort of thing for ages. The DFP, like all of humanity has his downsides, but has been hugely kind and supportive to me in my wildly fluctuating (and very annoying) states. He's told me I can aim higher, that I'm doing all right and that he'll support me as long as I need. I've continued to act like a crazy person. Let's not tell my future employers about any of this though, eh?
Anyhow, I'm making up for lost time now. So toodle-pip everyone. I'm off to the National Museum of Singapore!
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