Halfway Through

I woke early this morning to the realisation that I'm halfway through my trip - and I got all morose. I'm not that fond of reality at the moment. I'm having a perfectly lovely time living the life of Reilly, seeing new things, going new places, enjoying new things to eat and drink (Mexicanos excepted) and generally enjoying being on holiday.

The thing I'm desperately not trying to think about is going back to work with the knowledge that I have to find a new job in the imminent future - though in my book of goals I have written a long list of things I want in a new job, including a great salary, coming within a month to six weeks of being made redundant, long term contract, great people, CBD bases, generally 9-5 with some flexibilty to work from home, varied role, possibility of some people management down the track - that sort of stuff, just putting it out to the universe what I want from a job, and with any luck, and a bit of leg work, the universe will provide.

I'm also trying to make sure I write down my goals as often as possible, to start thinking about what it is I really want for my life when I get back. It's an exercise that we were taught on a soft skills course a few years ago - write down what it is you want out of life, write them down daily. I will help to focus your mind on what it is you want and it will let your unconscious brain work out how to get it. Concentrate on the "what", the "whos, wheres, whys and hows" can follow later.

It turns out there's a common list of six on my list - to be under a certain weight, to run a marathon, to buy a two bedroom appartment inner city, to get married to a loving, kind, solvent man, to write a novel and to be financially secure are all on there daily basis. There are a few others that come into it to - like owning a cat, travelling out of Australia every year, having a child. Things that would be nice, but we will see - the other things I have to work on. More food for thought.

I've not had a trace of homesickness since I've been away. There are a few things that would be nice to have, but there's no yearning to go home. It's a pity that you can't take your own bed on holiday - not that any of my friend's spare beds have been uncomfortable, but I love my bed.

The routine of the gym is something I'm looking forward to getting back, going for regular runs with Kit and M (which reminds me - must ask K if she wants to train up for the Puffing Billy Run) I've been out of the really heavy exercise routine for a few months and I miss the feeling of hard muscles - though all the walking I'm doing is making up for some of this. Still, it will be nice when I can bounce coins on my bum and to be able to run  five kilometres in under thirty minutes once again. At least this holiday has given my body a chance to heal completely from the operation.

Though I'm not missing Dream Group, I'm missing the people. I've heard it from three people that nobody sat in my spot at meditation - which I find sorta cute. I haven't been dreaming which is fine too. They will come when they need to, probably best as I don't have the forum there to discuss them.

The oddest thing I'm missing is telling the Grounded Dutchman stuff. I just can't pick up the phone and tell him crap. He's the person I tell crap to, whether it be I saw a balloon going up into the clouds, or you can get stropwafels at a certain shop to look at this silly thing, here's a photo.

And the data roaming is turned off on my phone. Probably a very good thing, but I miss not being able to check things out online immediately from my phone. Just have to be thankful that this has occured as my phone bill would be astronomical - rather than the just plain stupid that it  normally is.

However, it's onward and upward for now. Back to Amsterdam for the day to visit the museums (will blog about this in detail later -  I was there yesterday) then back to Utrecht to meet up with the Grounded Dutchman's best mate and his wife.

I've got the joys of Spain to ponder - Madrid's been made more appealing as I'll be meeting a friend from home and her fiance while I'm there. There is the joys of the Alhambra and Seville to look forward to, seeing old friends in London, the glory of Bath.

Only then can I start to ponder reality.

Right, time to get up. The man with the pile driver, knocking in posts is worse than the guy with the leaf blower at home. This is my signal to get my butt out of bed, shower and go find out what the Van Gogh and Rijksmuseums are all about.

Til later,

Pandx