Dreamlike “busy”s, welcomes, & cake.


Introductions, I guess. Hi. Hello. Hey. Sawadee kha.

To friends, strangers, family, strangers who could become friends, and the rest; here’s a quick download of all things recent ~ well, not all things. Just some things~:

For nine, long, bizarre months Thailand has been home. My Thai is still embarrassingly substandard. Quite a lot of things I do are quite substandard. And I’ll say ‘quite’ and ‘pretty’ a lot as to not commit to my own writing or opinions.

I also often ramble. Tangents are a talent.

A long-wanted and now terrifying promotion landed straight on my head this month, so I’m now a Principal of a school here in Koh Samui, and I can safely say I have no idea what I’m doing.

I have recently acquired a boyfriend, which is confusing and strange for a thousand different reasons.

I’ve also acquired a very hungry-looking doggy called Harry that seems to have come with our new house. Which is slightly less confusing.

This island is really feeling like home, which is simultaneously comforting and horrifying. I crave home and run from it all at the same time: my restlessness perfectly demonstrated in these ridiculous sleeping and eating patterns of late.

I want to cry quite often. And sometimes I do. But mostly I waver between keeping it together and having a meltdown. It leaves me with this odd expression on my face which apparently, I’m told, makes me look like I’m constantly happy. And energetic, though that’s more to do with the black coffees I’ve habitually started downing every day.

(Here’s some examples of things I cry and almost cry about: magnificent cakes, when people I love give me that really particular and stomach-dropping vibe of disinterest, when I run out of money, when I wake up in the mornings and I’m scared of leaving the house.)

These things happen quite often. I’m rather neurotic, and clingy, and slightly desperate for validation. But, I’m glad I come across as put together at work. That’s one thing I appreciate.

And I’m coming to terms with these things about myself. I’m a working progress, really, it will take a while. Almost like a finished painting that people are like ‘yeah buddy, it’s pretty good’ but the artist is infuriated by all his tiny, rushed mistakes that people will come to notice over time.

I’m trying to repaint before things begin to flake too much. I am.


Speaking of desperation, the word ‘busy’ is haunting me today. Stop.

Stop, stop, stop with your “busy”‘s and your “I don’t have time”‘s. I don’t have time for it. Oh, wait.

This first post has had an awkward vagueness. And I’ve barely scratched the surface. I don’t know if I’ll come back and edit it. I don’t know if I feel like being edited tonight. Mea-leu. This is my disjointed welcome to you, reader. Fitting, I think.

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