God, but the sirens are loud tonight. I kind of like them, though. It’s a busy, busy place. And I find the constant motion energizing. I leave my dorm room window open to let in the city as much as possible.
Admittedly, the first few days were hell. I relapsed into dysfunction in every possible way. It wasn’t pretty. And I thought I was doing okay, too … but between the dog drama and jet lag and culture shock, and I don’t even know what else, my resiliency just went kaput. I wanted to go home. HOME. Where there are fleas and ticks, and spiders, and most recently, a cranky-ass little snake from the woods hiding somewhere in my bedroom (yes, my BEDROOM). That’s sad, y’all.
But things have steadily turned around. I had the good sense to make connections with other people from minute one in the airport, and lucked out to be rooming next door to a really sweet girl I met at orientation a month ago. Additionally, my psych professor is kick-ass awesome. And the sun came out and the rain stopped (in London? Unheard of!).
Oh, and here, you’ll appreciate this. Out of all the professors for my second class that I could have possibly landed, I managed to get the one whose wife is involved in dog rescue back home. Seriously? How does this happen? Apparently, the powers that be do sometimes have a sense of humor.
I am very much in need right now of a piano—or a dog. But I’ll find a way to remedy that without too much trouble, I’m sure. In the meantime, I can walk everywhere here—and I do so, with great satisfaction. I’m falling in love with the city and the people—and well, with everything, really.
And some photos from a recent evening excursion, because it wouldn’t be me without some picture play.
