Sydney has seen some epic storms lately - both of the literal kind (see above) and then of the inner turmoil variety. I'm not sure what to say really apart from, well, things have been tough. It's been four months since we left London and it's hard not to wonder if we made a mistake coming home when we did.
The lack of a job has not helped, nor a disappointing series of meetings and conversations that have left me feeling as if dressed foolishly in the Emperor's new clothes; my London experience invisible and seemingly without material value. It seems if I want to find my dream job (whatever that is now) I'm going to have to conjure it myself and honestly, I'm not sure I have the tenacity, confidence or passion to do that at present. I'm exhausted and soggy in a profound sadness I can only really describe as grief.
It's almost as if the ferociousness of my feelings has conjured these very real storms from some deep pit in the universe. I can only hope that after this rain comes some sun. The outlook remains uncertain but I'm grateful for dear friends and family and a Lovely Boy to contemplate the storms with while we reflect on our new place in the world and figure out what the fuck we're going to do now that we're here.
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