Tuesday I went out on a bit of an expedition with one of the other expat wives. I had planned on driving myself but she was heading that way anyway and I wasn’t quite sure about the parking so thought some reconniscence with her could be wise. At one stage she made a comment about the not Facebook days – the days when it just isn’t fun to be in a strange country, dependent on your partner.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot the past couple of weeks. Part of the story of coming here was that I’d have time to do a whole lot of craft and writing things that I didn’t have time for at home. But it is difficult to describe how hard that is when you are not “at home”. I’m sure it will get better but some days the sense of nothing being quite right feels overwhelming. The moment when the thing you need is buried deep in storage in another country, the moments trying to figure out how to do something with a different furniture layout or not the right chair.

The thing is it is all fixable, all manageable, even all affordable. For every moment of frustration at not being able to find something there are multiple moments of delight at something different or new. But it is hard to describe the toll of constantly navigating change so that even the very familiar like cleaning the bathroom just feels incredibly complex and hard.

Of course, sitting here drinking great coffee helps. And I know I need to cut myself some slack. We have only been here six weeks. Now I have managed to drive to IKEA it is only a matter of time before my empty office has the furniture and storage I need. And to be honest I have stalled on starting sewing or other projects before this, even at home!

But today is a cranky, hot, not quite, slightly sorry for myself day which I think deserves a post to balance the “Facebook” days where the world seems perfect.