6 months ago, my husband, son and I upped and left our cushy lives in Melbourne to embark on a little adventure, to work/live/play overseas. One last adventure before it’s all PTAs and football/dance practice. Or the first adventure to kick-start PTAs and football/dance practice? We were nervous then, and bloody nervous now. We’ve been having too much fun to get actual jobs, so here’s hoping our savings learn to copulate and make little money babies.
Packing up was a bitch. Between selling stuff on Buy, Sell, Swap sites and tossing things in the bin, I re-lived all my stupid decisions and ever-evolving (read confused) personal style. I’ve been through the mass produced phase to the exclusive boutique collections and now I find myself quite happily perched on my op-shop/ thrift-shop high horse (Pre-loved horse, naturally.)
So I packed up all my faded vases, torn suitcases, rusty typewriter and $2 dresses, and ran to catch my flight. Of course, I helped my husband and 1-year-old pack their slick new things in their fancy 4-wheeler suitcases, but I’ll include them in this blog-thingy when it suits me, unlike in real life.
1 week in India, and I’m already heavier with all the home-cooked deliciousness and drunk on the power of laziness. Laundry, done. Cooking, done. Cleaning, done. Ah! The joys of being home with your Mama. Unless I’m your Mama, then you better start cleaning up. And get mama a cheese sandwich when you’re done.
The heat here is nothing like I remember. It’s almost vindictive. Like nature is punishing us for all the abuse we hurl at her, for taking her for granted. I’d agree with her, but my wits are melting along with my face, and my blue hair is dripping blue sweat down my sweat-stained shirt. Sweat.
Two 60th birthdays, one 70th birthday and two big fat Indian weddings later, we may be ready to get back to reality. Apart from the usual noise, pigging out and chaotic fun that is every Indian function, this year I got to try my hand at event planning. From designing centerpieces to writing & directing little skits for the families, I found a way to put my neurotic control-freakness to good use. Let’s earmark that as career option #23.
I’m an engineer by qualification and a copywriter by profession. Making this move means I get a chance to try out another career. Editor, teacher, suit, party planner? I barely qualify as a copywriter, so these other ideas that float into my head may be as far-fetched as they seem. Or maybe I charm my way into any field with my…umm…okay, maybe not. I’ll just wing it.