In 2008 I moved from one country fixated on the weather to another country fixated on the weather. It was the most common thing people asked me when I told them I was leaving New Zealand and moving to England.
“But how will you cope with the weather?”
The sky is blue - but not in a good way. View from my window at midday.
I’d brush it off with a smile. Sometimes I’d even add that I love reading and writing, and cooking and indoor activities. Like lying in My Englishman’s arms (not that I’d mention that, but inwardly I’d annotate the conversation.) I completely overlooked the amount of time I used to spend walking around the Bays, swimming, running to the beach, or even just having coffee with friends in the sunshine. I completely forgot that I’m really a hot house flower. I bloom best in hot humid conditions.
There’s nothing I’d like more than to be able to run off my Christmas tummy. But it’s currently -3 degrees out there, which makes exercise not so much a leisurely jog, but more an ice trekking excursion. Of course this means that I have more excuse to sit inside and DO SOME WORK.
Yeah. As if.
Because the moment I sit down at the computer to write something my mind goes blank. Yesterday I even cleaned the house and vaccuumed up three months worth of dog mess. In fact, in retrospect it would have been better if I’d just vacuumed the dog. It’s not as if I didn’t have any thing to do, I had a list a mile long but I just lacked…
Incentive?
No, running out of money is a fine incentive.
Motivation?
No, I’m possibly one of the most driven people I know.
I just couldn’t get started. I just have this feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s not a dire warning, or premonition..but it is a portent. It’s like the surge of electricity in the air just before a tropical storm, or a dream in which you can feel it’s all going to change, but when you wake you cannot remember the details.
I’m not scared. I’m just waiting for the knock on the door – metaphorically speaking – and trying to second guess what will happen next.
Of course it could just be cabin fever, and my mind is sexing up the ordinary.
I’m stuck here whilst the UK Border Agency review our permanent leave to remain visa application. Are my feelings simply a reaction to feeling stuck without ID documents, or passports for who knows how long? Or I could just be reacting to the Northern Hemisphere’s Blue Monday (yesterday was the gloomiest day of the year).
Or am I simply attuned to the psychic and quietly preparing for the change – that break in the weather? I feel it in my waters.
What is your ‘feel in my bones’ sign that something is going to happen?
In 2008 I moved from one country fixated on the weather to another country fixated on the weather. It was the most common thing people asked me when I told them I was leaving New Zealand and moving to England.
"But how will you cope with the weather?"
[caption id="attachment_4558" align="alignright" width="229" caption="The sky is blue - but not in a good way. View from my window at midday."][/caption]
I'd brush it off with a smile. Sometimes I'd even add that I love reading and writing, and cooking and indoor activities. Like lying in My Englishman's arms (not that I'd mention that, but inwardly I'd annotate the conversation.) I completely overlooked the amount of time I used to spend walking around the Bays, swimming, running to the beach, or even just having coffee with friends in the sunshine. I completely forgot that I'm really a hot house flower. I bloom best in hot humid conditions.
There's nothing I'd like more than to be able to run off my Christmas tummy. But it's currently -3 degrees out there, which makes exercise not so much a leisurely jog, but more an ice trekking excursion. Of course this means that I have more excuse to sit inside and DO SOME WORK.
Yeah. As if.
Because the moment I sit down at the computer to write something my mind goes blank. Yesterday I even cleaned the house and vaccuumed up three months worth of dog mess. In fact, in retrospect it would have been better if I'd just vacuumed the dog. It's not as if I didn't have any thing to do, I had a list a mile long but I just lacked...
Incentive?
No, running out of money is a fine incentive.
Motivation?
No, I'm possibly one of the most driven people I know.
I just couldn't get started. I just have this feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's not a dire warning, or premonition..but it is a portent. It's like the surge of electricity in the air just before a tropical storm, or a dream in which you can feel it's all going to change, but when you wake you cannot remember the details.
I'm not scared. I'm just waiting for the knock on the door - metaphorically speaking - and trying to second guess what will happen next.
Of course it could just be cabin fever, and my mind is sexing up the ordinary.
I'm stuck here whilst the UK Border Agency review our permanent leave to remain visa application. Are my feelings simply a reaction to feeling stuck without ID documents, or passports for who knows how long? Or I could just be reacting to the Northern Hemisphere's Blue Monday (yesterday was the gloomiest day of the year).
Or am I simply attuned to the psychic and quietly preparing for the change - that break in the weather? I feel it in my waters.
What is your 'feel in my bones' sign that something is going to happen?
Tagged as:
belief,
change,
cold,
Expat Kiwi,
portent,
psychic,
signs,
warning
