I’m knocking on wood as I write this, but my life is starting to feel almost normal.
For months now, I’ve been figuring out a completely new job in a new country, meeting new people, and for some reason, it really threw me more than I expected. I’ve moved before, have started a new job before; I figured this would be similar. Maybe it was just the fact that there wasn’t just one big life change, there were several at once. Maybe it was the fact that here, everything here is just a tiny bit harder: you’re at the grocery store, and you think that what you’re buying is oatmeal, but you come to find out that it’s actually spiced barley. So, you do what you can: you adapt and look up barley recipes. All of the teeny constant adaptations along with the big huge ones made me really tired, though, and I missed my family.
I’ve spent my time recharging in my old routine: using days off to visit farmers markets and catch up on reading new books all over Okinawan coffee shops and beaches. It’s already made a few spots into “that coffee shop where I read Jurassic Park for hours”, and “the beach where I got rained on reading Sense and Sensibility“. I can already feel this island becoming home. Somehow, in all of this, my wedding snuck up on me, and it’s happening in less than a month.
So much for normalcy.
Right now, I am taking comfort in a Stephen King novel and some cold homemade carrot juice. Normal is overrated, right?