I am homesick. I’ve been complaining of this for quite some time now, but today some of my internal people took up the cause. Recently, Mairead complained that she was tired of having to read and write words that were f*ck*ng spelled wrong. I got a laugh out of that. That isn’t a big issue for me, as it was essential for me to learn and use American spellings because of my career field. Adjusting my writing style based on that wasn’t difficult. Lily frequently complains that people here sound funny when they talk and she wants to go back home. That isn’t good for a laugh, though. I feel the same way.
Driving home this afternoon I was thinking of how the hills in this area remind me of the Yorkshire Dales, and the quality of the sky looked like London just before rain. Have I mentioned I’m homesick? I feel a bit stuck in the middle, though– too English for the Americans and too American for the English. New national identity– AmerEnglish. 🙂
Perhaps I will return to the Sceptred Isle soon, if only for a visit. The placement service I recently registered with has contacts on both sides of the pond. There are definitely things about America that I would miss, and leaving behind those I love here would certainly be difficult. That’s the thought that holds me here. The thought that keeps pushing me forward is that I want to feel like I belong again, like I understand and fit in with the culture surrounding me. And no matter which side of the Atlantic I end up on, I can always visit the other. We live in a small world.
Definitely not a decision to take lightly.