It is now week four of my time in the U.K.
Laura and I have settled ourselves in Edinburgh for the moment, as mentioned
previously, and are both working and living in a great, though expensive, flat.
By all accounts one could say this endeavor is a success, thus far. Yet I have
been having some stern words with myself these past two weeks or so about
having a bit of an attitude. My job is working as a barista in a good coffee
shop in central Edinburgh, it only takes half an hour to walk there or back
from my flat and the walk is through a beautiful park called The Meadows,
surrounded by majestic old stone buildings, where people have picnics and
frolic with their dogs.
So why have I been afflicted with gloomy,
grumpy ennui?
You wouldn’t know it to interact with me at
work, I’m pretty good at acting the chirpy, friendly barista part, but in my
head I have caught myself frequently thinking ‘gggghhhh I hate this’ or mentally snarling at piles of dirty
dishes. Now, I’m not sure what the deal is with this. I have worked jobs just
like this before, and while they’re not the most mentally stimulating or
rewarding of jobs they’re not overly difficult or unpleasant either. I haven’t
minded such jobs in the past, and now all of a sudden I want to throw all the
crockery on the ground and walk out, never to return. I have some theories.
Firstly, I suspect I may be reaching my
relatively low threshold for this sort of job. I am not naturally a people
person, which is a primary element of the barista job, so I exert a lot of
unseen energy to appear bubbly while talking to more people in half an hour
than natural inclination for human interaction would see me speak to in a week
left to my own devices.
Secondly, I believe I am in something of a
teething period with this new place, lovely as it is. There is a reason most
people don’t just pick up and move halfway around the world to a city they’ve
only visited once before, for a couple days, and don’t know a single person in.
It’s a bit of a challenge. I find every new adventure has this period, when you
feel moody and just want to be a shut in binge watching TV shows or movies and
ignoring the fabulous new place outside because the idea of getting to know a
whole new place, where everything is, how people live their lives here, trying
to make friends, etc. is just too overwhelming. In the very early stages of
this you’re also generally jet lagged, missing your own bed and can’t seem to
get the temperature to come out right in any shower you use.
Laura and I also
managed to both acquire colds, complete with hacking coughs and runny noses,
not long after we arrived and are still trying to shake them, and I, due to
some poor shoe availability and decisions in my early days of work, am
currently missing a very sizable chunk of my right heel and what’s left is a
pretty gross mess which I don’t even want to look at. The rest of both feet are
covered in large blisters. This situation also causes me to limp and walk
slowly, unfortunate factors for a person who walks to work. I had to leave
almost an hour early for work today to do what is usually a thirty minute walk.
Being elderly is probably something like this but worse, I couldn’t say for certain
of course but I do know it’s not research I want to do at 27.
Also, my workplace seems to have its own hot,
moist, jungle climate, causing everyone who works there to perspire constantly
on a scale of mild to severe at all times depending on the level of activity
they’re undertaking. I went into the bathroom to change after work today and
had to peel my work shirt off of me. Then I was standing there with toilet
paper stuffed up my runny nose while using more toilet paper to wipe pus out of
my shoe from my hideous, mangled foot while standing like a demented, hot mess
of a flamingo on the other foot. Dignified, elegant, sanitary... These are all
words I absolutely would not use to describe the situation.
So, this brings me back to the stern words
I’ve been having with myself lately. Yes, this transition period is...awkward.
But, I need to get over it so that I can get into the swing of enjoying this
beautiful new place! So today I decided perhaps stern words were not the best
choice for dealing with my moodiness during my odd, new place, struggles. After
all, I wouldn’t appreciate that approach from an external source. So after work
I stopped into a shop and bought myself a little picnic, complete with green
grapes which are my comfort, feel better food, and only limped half way across
The Meadows before giving myself a little sit down to enjoy it. The sun came
out and I thought nice, kind thoughts to myself like ‘well done doing all that
standing and walking today with your maimed foot’ and, ‘Laura will probably
make you a cup of tea when you get home, isn’t it great having Laura here with
you, it’s so much better than doing this on your own’ (she totally did make me
a cup of tea). I people watched, looking at the parents taking their little
kids out for walks, the other picnickers, an amusing squirrel, and all the cute
dogs running around, then I limped the rest of the way home, it was very
soothing. Not the limping but, you know, the rest of it.
Plus,
at the edge of The Meadows a dove almost pooped on me. Missed me by a mere inch. I probably haven’t mentioned this previously, but for reasons best known
to the Universe and some kind of international bird mafia, I get pooped on by
birds with some frequency. Now I have heard (and by that I mean it was a line
of dialogue in the movie Under the Tuscan
Sun) that it is lucky to be pooped on by birds, a good sign in some way.
Why we would believe such a thing is a mystery, I can only assume to make
ourselves feel better about having other animal’s shit on us. Whatever the
reason, if this is the case then one could look at it as good things are on the
way, they’re almost here, you were
almost pooped on by a dove. So, either things will now start feeling easier and
more natural going forward, or, at the very least I can look at it as I was
almost shit on by a dove, but I dodged that bullet and don’t have a gross hair
washing task to undertake, and that’s pretty good too.
