Ready to pounce.
About to strike.
Most of the time, I’m okay here; I just tell myself to power through. But other times, this unexplainable sadness rushes over me and I can barely hold back my tears. I know I’ve said this before— I’m not happy here. If I didn’t know what true happiness was, I don’t think this would be such a big deal. It would be uncomfortable, but I’d be okay with it. On the other hand, I do know what happiness is. Here, I experience it once in a while in little moments. Like when my favorite song comes on the radio, or when I’m discussing the world’s problems with my friends over a plate of fries. But, it’s not enough. It’s not like France where even at the lowest moments of my life, such as when I was homeless, I was happy. No matter what curveballs were thrown at me, I was always okay with it and happy. Here, the tiniest thing flips my switch and I am angry or upset.
5 weeks. 3 days. That’s my mantra. I will survive this time at ‘home.’ It hasn’t been pleasant, but I’ll get through it. Soon, I’ll be in Australia. I hope I find happiness there.
I have learned that I cannot live here again. It is not a viable option for my future. And that is a good thing to be aware of.
I am fed up with picking up the slack from my inadequate coworkers. Seriously people?! Common sense.
In other news, only 5 weeks left of this mundane job.