All of a sudden I’ve found myself settled. I can’t get to sleep without the sound of cars passing underneath my window, and the supermarket’s stopped seeming overpriced. I know to leave the curtains shut but the windows open during the hottest part of the day; when the rain begins to fall I know which shops will flood first, and how the bookstore will come alive and scramble to rescue its pavement display.
It’s hard to explain how I feel about it.
It’s not that I don’t want to fall in love with Sydney and it’s not that I don’t want to live in 2014. I suppose I’m just so keen to experience life, to travel, to go on exchange (second half of 2015, god willing) — and the fact that I’ve been spoilt rotten by a year of travel and nonsense — makes it hard to feel content. There are so many things I want, so many goals, and I feel like I can’t achieve any here. Maybe it’s the reality of full-time study hitting me. I just didn’t expect it to be so static.