This week I’ve been good at dealing with things I normally put off. Things like horrible bills, and chasing people to fix my house (the boiler has broken. AGAIN.) and stuff like that.
A while ago I resolved to stay in the country for the rest of this year. I have a number of personal life things that I need to sort out, ideally before the end of 2015. Some are ambitions I’ve had for ages (learn to drive) that are becoming more urgent the older I get. Some are fun things I’ve never done before (have a Hallowe’en party) and some are less fun, but part of the Inevitable Admin of Adulthood (get my divorce finalised).
But then I got a couple of messages from fellow forensicators, talking about a trip to Malaga for a conference/workshop/week of socialising, so I decided to go.
Today is the only day I have for the foreseeable future that won’t involve getting up obscenely early and doing a lot of things. For that reason, I’m spending it in bed with a pile of books.
My favourite part of this week was catching up with a friend whom I haven’t seen in a year or two – we went for “a drink”, which turned into several drinks, followed by dinner, and I got home at about 12.30 but it was totally worth it.
Yesterday I went along to The Expat Show, which was interesting. I know that at some point in my life I will live abroad. I’m not sure when it’ll happen. But I am spending three months in the USA next year, which might count? It’s longer than a holiday (and I’ll be working the whole time), at any rate.
I met a man who came up to me and spoke to me in French. I replied, also in French, but his French was awful so we switched to English. Which he spoke with a French accent. I was confused. Perhaps he was just having one of those days where you can’t really speak any language properly. I get those, too.
I told him that I’m pretty sure I’ll end up living in France at some point, and that one of the reasons I’ve never been is because I think if I go there on holiday, I just won’t come back. My family is from France (Besançon and the Loire Valley, to be precise) and I speak it daily, though usually just to myself. My mother went there recently, on her first trip back in over 25 years, and she’s already talking about going there for “a couple of months at the end of this year”, which I can see stretching into 2016 and onwards.
Relatable Postsecret of the week:
And now I’m going to turn off my computer and settle in for the day with a hoard of books.
Until next time