Ninety days

I’ve been in Canada for ninety days. Still, adding the holidays feels a bit like cheating: no vacation is an immigration. On the other hand, the vacation was a lead up to the international move, usually my parents and I don’t cry so much when I leave for a holiday.

The training wheels came off pretty recently, though. Today it’s fifteen days in my own studio, twenty-one days at the job. It feels too early to say anything about anything. Do I like Ottawa? The small part I’ve seen of it, yes. Do I like the people of Ottawa? Eh, the ones I interacted with, yes, mostly? Do I like living on my own? Yes, although the dinner thing is still something I struggle with. Today I had my first laundromat experience, and I wonder if I’m ten years late with all these small on-your-own situations.

I miss friends, and family, and dog, and something to do when I’m not at work (I’m so starting with that MOOC tomorrow), but right now the Look At Me, Doing This feelings are still outbalancing the missing. I’m giving myself another 71 days to see how the balance will move. Until then, more new experiences: today I had my first Canadian pedicure, tomorrow I’m going to get my first (Canadian) hair cut.


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