On a day to day basis, everything is going just fine.
We have a nice routine. The coffee maker goes off at 8 if we aren’t up earlier; read and do web stuff for a couple of hours before I cook brunch. Walk the dog and exercise. Shower, read, study – German for her, Spanish for me – have a glass of wine. Dinner and read.
It is somewhat idyllic. Things intersperse. I’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time on USA Rugby restructuring – *drinks* – and SWMBO has been bookclubbing with her backpacking group. I’m spending more time than I thought I could on catching up on old history books.
I suddenly realized just how desperate I am for our move to come off. We’re finding creative ways to keep going round in circles. Sharon hasn’t been to work for 7 weeks, so we don’t know what’s going on. Could be August, could be two weeks after that, could be a year. I’m telling myself that we just take each day as it comes, which is true enough, but it’s really just a day at a time until we find out what’s happening.
Could be Alice; could be Berlin. Could be stuck here.
We’re lucky, and I know we are. Everyone’s problems are unique to them, and I probably shouldn’t complain. But god I just want to know where my life is going. I want 3 years in the Outback and the desert; I like the idea of doing something new and different.
I don’t know where my life will be this time next year, and rather than exciting, it’s unsettling. Marking time ain’t fun.