Here we go.
A week has gone. The first week in this cloudy and windy land.
The last days before leaving I was too excited even to think about it clearly. And now I'm here.
When I stop to think about it, it's like I'm realising it for the first time.
One of my dreams has come true: I'm living for more than three months in another country where all I can hear is english english english (and yes, just some irish but I can't understand a word).
Everyone says I'm going to have a terrific experience, have fun, meet new people, and do great things. They're all right: I'm damn lucky!
So how can I disappoint them? How can I disappoint myself by being not happy as I thought I would be?
This ain't another bloody post in which I'm going to feel sorry for my poor soul. I'm sick of all this.
I'd said to myself I shouldn't have had any expectations. It would have been such a good thing. But now I think that actually it's impossible. Expectations come to your mind without any kind of warning. You just have them.
So, if I'm not having what I f expected I just have to get everything from what I have here and now.
That's not easy but that's the only thing I can do.
Go do your homewotk, Julie. Come on.