It’s funny, its almost like I keep waiting for myself to burst into tears, overwhelmed at being alone in a strange land. I’ll stop in the middle of unpacking, or exploring the cookware in the new apartment, or hunting for more hangers (because there is NO was they actually only gave me TEN), and expect to be overwhelmed by a breakdown. And I’m surprised every time I’m only met with a shoulder shrug and the internal chorus, “you knew what you were getting yourself into, why are you so surprised it’s not impossible?”
I suppose I didn’t really spend this day as I had thought I would, which was dashing around the city, soaking up the sights and neighborhoods. But I have four more days to do that before work begins, and I guess fully unpacking and stocking the kitchen with groceries isn’t an awful start for day 1. Plus, I am also giving myself a mental back-pat for successfully navigating the airport, key retrieval, and 24th floor apartment locating process with four (count em, FOUR) rolly-suitcases plus a shouder-strap carry on, and just two lil old arms. Even the building concierge was impressed when he returned to the lobby just as I loaded the last giant suitcase onto the elevator single-handedly while holding the lift door open with my other hand. So far, I’ve got this building owned. Now to work up the nerve to figure out the public transport…
The view from my temporary apartment – not too shabby!
P.S. – Fun Oz fact #1: they call cantaloupe rockmelon here. Doesn’t that sound so much more badass and empowered than what we call it in the US? Point one: Oz. My bill for groceries, on the other hand? Big point for US. Shit’s EXPENSIVE here!