I’ve been delaying this blog post because I’ve been waiting for something terrible to happen to me.
No, seriously. I’ve been waiting for something to fall out of the sky and crush my legs, for some bureaucratic nightmare dragon to rear its ugly head and bite mine off, to be sleeping in a box next to the Thames. But as it turns out, I’ve been here for a little over three weeks and nothing has gone wrong. In fact, everything is fine–more than fine, everything’s great! To my complete surprise, this has been by far the easiest international move I have ever made. It remains to be seen whether that has more to do with me getting to be an old hat at this whole trans-hemispherical relocation thing, or else because everyone speaks English/you can buy brown sugar here/I just spent ten months in Mongolia after which England is a cakewalk, because seriously bro, Mongolia. Moving abroad is supposed to be hard, but life in London is so easy I feel like I’m cheating at being an expat.
Happily, I’m finding living in London combines all of my favorite things about living in Germany (health care! public transportation! things to do!) with the ability to jaywalk. Less happily, it also involves a cost of living that is just stupid, plus all the public health hazards that go along with driving cars on the wrong side of the road, which makes jaywalking a daily exercise in close encounters of the fatal kind.
I’m currently renting a room in an area of London that’s not exactly the most hopping, but since it only takes me seven minutes to walk to work in the morning, I can’t say I’m particularly sad about it. I get all of this:
while also only being approximately 30 minutes from Central London, so it’s a good compromise.
In more happy news, I love my job to a degree that I did not dare hope for when I first decided to try being an adult with an adult job for once. I thought full-time employment was supposed to be lame, and yet, it’s Sunday evening and I’m looking forward to work tomorrow because we’ve got fun things that need doing, and I am the person getting paid to do them. Amazingly, I have somehow managed to find a job that pays me to do things I enjoy doing and would be doing anyway for no money. I feel like I’ve gamed the system.
In my further quest to painstakingly assemble the ingredients of personal happiness, I got WHEEEEEEEELS.
It has flowers AND a basket AND a bell AND not one, not two, but THREE SPEEDS! It’s also, like, forty years old but whatever. Is awesome.
The only true issue I have had since arriving here is making friends. Where I live, people are either 21 or 40, and my theory as to everyone in between’s whereabouts begins and ends at “state-mandated cryogenic hibernation,” possibly to cut down on NHS costs. Ah well, they’ll come. I’m a pretty social person, so it can’t be much longer.