Yesterday morning started out a little rough. Sometimes I have some pretty crazy dreams (I think I always have? Louis tells me I talk sometimes, or move, and occasionally he’s had to wake me up). Yesterday morning I woke up in a panic and my heart was racing. I’m pretty sure it’s dream related, but it’s a crappy way to start the day. On top of it, I was late (AGAIN), and I thought that Louis was mad at me for being late (he wasn’t but I made a big deal of it). Basically, a recipe for tears all before 06h30.

I decided not to join Louis for breakfast since I couldn’t seem to hold in my tears, and the last thing I wanted was someone to see me cry (slightly ironic since I’m now announcing it online). I went to work, cried a bit (while trying not to cry and ruin my mascara. You’d think at this point in time, I would have bought waterproof??). Then when I had calmed down, I called Louis and ended up crying to him for a couple of minutes. I’m sure there’s NOTHING better than a crying wife while you’re having a the only quiet moments of your day, drinking your morning coffee before the real chaos starts.

Yet somehow through the morning I started to think about things.

Why am I so hard on myself? There’s a reason why expatriates are paid more – it’s tough! Yes, every job is tough, or it there wouldn’t be any challenge. But it’s more the elements of the job that’s tough. The multitude of variables that goes into an expat position in a start-up joint venture, with four different partners, in a country that hasn’t had an official president since January 2009, while living 15,000 km away from your family with an 7-10 hour time difference, can really push a person’s buttons. Yes, now I have an idea of what to expect, , but that doesn’t mean it’s less difficult to deal with.

Of course it’s not always this hard to deal with, or I wouldn’t be here. Last rotation I was exhausted, but I had a sense of accomplishment. It’s the first rotation in a long time where I could see the fruits of my labor (barf. I hate that expression). I know that all of the small things I do add up, but in this role, sometimes it’s a lot of work that leads to a dead end.

And then there’s two of us going through our own crap living together in a hotel room (yes, I’m still bitter at the moment about that even though we could have much worse conditions). So it’s not always a party.

Geez, I’m totally and completely rambling. I guess that’s what I’m good at. I only wish I could speak this well. Lately I can’t think of the word that I want to use, or I’ll forget my point halfway through my sentence.

So while things aren’t easy here, I’m not sure why I’m forcing myself to make them easy. If it was easy, I’d be bored, and move on. Work is hard! That's why they pay you money! When it stops being fun all together? Then I need to worry. Or, quit.

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