Wednesday

4 months of sofa living have taken their toll.

I am exhausted.

Add to that the rollercoaster of adapting to a new lifestyle, understanding Canadian dating mores, trying to find a new job and ending up over my head in an office of bankers. Splash in some long hours, the confusion surrounding my still missing furniture, missing London like a lover, finally finding myself on the winning side of a long battle with a niggling health concern and learning how to find my niche within a city that has moved on. Top it off with the odd identity crisis, one or two bad dates, a few shaky moments of ohdeargodwhathaveidone and you've got it all in a fantastically mixed cocktail.

So I'm packing my bags and escaping to another beautiful city on the weekend to cause as much havoc as two little misses can do.

And which I hope will suitably make up for the dreadful writer's block beseiging me at present.

And so my gifts are as below, a piece that inspired a well thought out and sensitively debated conversation. Following on a carefully philosophised point, I did actually utter *It makes me so grateful that I never, ever have to be... a mail order bride...* (via)

I think the Nurse knew what I meant. But it didn't stop her from laughing her head off at me.