It has been hard to come back. I know I have not written much about it, but I am exhausted. I can barely unpack my bags, nevermind look for a place to live, find a job, and hold a proper conversation. I change my mind chronically and I am lucky that Chris finds this funny. And I know that everyone goes through this and I should stop hiding indoors with novels and start reconstructing my life and reconnecting with people and looking for work. Which is why I went by the CBC yesterday. To see people mostly, and also to see how it *felt* to be back there. Everyone was pregnant or engaged. 5 pregnacies and 2 engagements.
Five people asked me to go for a smoke.
It did not make me feel pukey at all to be there. And it was genuinely good to see people. But after 5 hours of "It was fabulous. Building Web sites for NGO's. Bhubaneshwar and Delhi. Yeah, culture shock..." I started to feel twitchy. More socializing than I have had in months. Whew. Poking around and asking about potential work . It was a trip. And trying to articulate what I want to *do* should there be any work there for me was hard. "Um...ideally I want to marry writing with the Web with a humanitarian mandate" started to sound good to me, but perhaps vague and pretentious to others.
And I had every intention of going to a party last night but that stupid cold and the talkathon I had at the Ceeb made me too tired.
Chris made me garlicky pasta for a cold cure while we watched Pretty in Pink on the teevee with the cable that my subletter "graciously" left over. It was hilarious to see that movie again after so many years. The eye rolling! A time when good vintage clothes were cheap and easily available and the aesthetic had not yet been appropriated by Urban Outfitters.
You know what is tasty? Peanut butter and molasses on mutigrain bread.