Cessation of Hostilities

I was walking home last evening (as I’ve done every night this week – I’m quite proud of myself!) and I realised something. I lacked the grip of a certain constant companion what has been perched on my shoulder ever since I arrived in this ‘ere country.

It was the absence of fear.

I am now comfortable in this city. I feel like I’ve been getting involved in a new relationship with all the anxiety and heartache, worry and nerves that this entails. And let me tell you, London can be an absolute bitch at times. She’s moody and grumpy and miserable, and although she’s quite a buxom wench, who enjoys her beer and a wide variety of cultural expressions, she can be very short tempered, pushy and occasionally downright mean. But this week, she’s been in a good mood. I’ve only seen one shower and we’ve had sun every day. I believe we now have a working relationship. We are civil to one another, have the occasional contretemps but also share a few laughs and I think occasionally she even likes me!

I’m finally getting used to the claustrophobia this city incites and the dance routine you have to engage in any time you walk down Oxford Street or Tottenham Court Road. People live so close together here that personal space is a non-existent thing. I’ve found it quite confronting to have people walk so close to me, treading on my heals, standing within millimetres, squeezing by me leaving a trail of their perfume / aftershave on my skin… I’m continually looking over my shoulder and hanging onto my bag for dear life. But today, one of the endless stream of magazine hawkers, charity scalpers, stinking beggars, free newspaper pushes, religions spruikers and scientology converts offered to hug me if I’d stop and talk to him, and he even tried… and I didn’t’ even bat an eyelid. It didn’t bother me. I laughed!

The job is going well too. The people are friendly and approachable, the work is interesting and I have as yet not managed to be bored once.

I have also landed on my feet in terms of flat mates. Not only does she share my love of films and television, but she likes Jane Austen as much as I do! And when I embarrassingly managed to kill her fern when she was away last week (most of the time I have green thumbs but I’m obviously not used to this silly hot/cold/dry/humid climate) she didn’t mind! She did a visual autopsy, pronounced the corpse to be indeed dead, and that was that. Wow. Someone as easygoing as I could ever wish for!

But most of all – and I suspect that this is the deal clincher – I got paid this week. What a relief. The fact that I have money coming in (even if it was only the first 2 ½ weeks worth) has made the world of difference. It wasn’t a million bucks, it was barely a thousand, but it was in the plus column in my bank account, and so was black and not red. I feel grounded and suddenly solid. I’m not going to blow away at the first hint of bad weather.

I have a job, I have a home and I have a town to call my own. I’m no longer at war with myself. I can say its ok – I did the right thing.

Alls well.