Well it’s official: today marks one year since I arrived in the UK from America, with my two large suitcases full of things, my heart full of optimism and my hallmark child-like enthusiasm. Oh what a year it has been! I only started writing in this medium at the half-year mark, so the blog is not yet marking its own birthday.
A year is a long time, in some very important ways. I am certainly not the person I was when I moved here. I’ve been through a lot on the job, and that’s a continuing adventure. I’ve also changed a lot more in my personality than I would have guessed. Some of the change is good–I hesitate to use the words “personal growth” although they are probably appropriate here–while some of the change has definitely been less positive. I think that mostly reflects what has been a bit of a lack of equilibrium after such a large change. My highs are highs but my lows are extreme, and overall it makes me seem more moody and changeable than I ever was back in the US. I have been on a positive swing the last few weeks and am cautiously optimistic that stabilization of my moods is not only possible but probable.
On other fronts, today being my anniversary, I have a bright-and-early appointment at a bank which shall remain nameless to try and upgrade my account to one more appropriate to my position and income. Supposedly a year in the UK should have given me some degree of credit record; I’m not holding my breath but will certainly report back on how that goes. Unfortunately I have to attend a rather sad gathering this evening, a memorial service for someone who died way too young. It does not make for a particularly celebratory end to this very special day, but sometimes life is just like that. It’s a bit like a birthday: even though it’s a special day to ME, the world does not actually stop spinning to mark the occasion.