“I don’t know what I want!” is a lie.

I know exactly what I want.

What I don’t know is how to get it.

I’m just back from my third trip to London and I find the city wholly intoxicating. When I’m there, nothing else feels as important as being there, soaking the city in. It feels endlessly alive and so do I. And even though, on paper, I shouldn’t like it, my appetite for it is insatiable.

But then…there’s Sydney, where I’ve made some of my best friends in the world. The place I feel the most socially integrated. The (notoriously unfriendly and cliquish, according to every Melburnian I told I was moving) place I lived for 10 months and yet somehow had 60 people to invite to my going away party. What? My Sydney family is everything. They are my people, my tribe. (And Aussie coffee, produce and yogurt are heaps better than everywhere else I’ve been, at the same relative price point.)

So what do I do?
How do I square that circle?

On the bright side, it’s not like they’re on opposite sides of the world or anything.

Oh. Wait.

I have to just hope that it will work out and that I am where I need to be to end up where I want to be.

Something like that.

Life is gonna teach me patience or kill me.