six months

London in springtime: the sun is shining, birds are singing, and the sky is finally, amazingly, stunningly blue.

So I left.

Six months is just long enough to find London's mildness soothing, rather than boring; to stop being surprised when the English mention "the Europeans" rather than "we Europeans;" and to make a few good friends.

It's also, as it turns out, long enough to realize that I no longer want my "charitable" activities to be only hobbies; that golden handcuffs do come off (though they are very snug and definitely leave scars); and that I'd rather feel sheepish about leaving than resign myself to staying.

So, here I am. Thousands of miles from fine dining and fine art ...but two feet from my sweetie, and a million times happier.

(A bit sentimental, I know...but it's the truth.)