It's happening again...

that feeling of what am I even doing here? This time thankfully not to the magnitude of what am I doing on Earth, but what the hell am I doing in this grey country?
I'm having one of those fucking alone evenings again, and it's the shitties thing because everyone I would call is in a different time zone.
As I was washing up the lunch and dinner dishes (yeah right, dream of being a housewife my arse!) tonight I had a sudden recollection of Chook and Keith's kitchen and it went through me like a stab, being back in a balmy night in Bedford, suds up to elbows, Keith drying and Chook making tea. I miss them so much I can feel it in my spine.

This first week of being free, at least from a set office job, although only two days in, is already feeling uncertain. Am I going to be able to organise myself properly? Will I fit everything in? Will I make the time to learn this language and that one, to spend time on the PhD and on me??
When will this shitty yearning pass? (When I'm back in Oz?)

What I'd like more than anything, right at this moment, is to be sitting amid the whirr of summer crickets, drinking some good Fonty's Pool wine, and talking into the small hours of the night I love best. The night bedecked by the Southern Cross- ever faithful, always there.

How I miss it.