Yes to Love, Yes to Life, Yes to Staying in More

I've just spent the most wonderful night doing..... absolutely nothing important. Two glasses of wine, three NPR articles, three burning candles, one chamomile tea and one "Here's The Thing" podcast interview with Alec Baldwin and Lena Dunham and I have become a supremely content girl. There's also a marvelous satisfaction in having a night in and alone, and knowing that you can go to bed early. I understand this post makes me sound like a reclusive grandmother that is possible beginning to suffer from dementia - but that is just because I'm not burrito-ed in my comfy bed writing when I'm out living, breathing and drinking in the world.

This weekend was a strange and increasingly familiar mixture of old friends and new friends, awkward house parties and riotous college parties, reliable Irish pubs, bottles and bottles of 3€ wine, laughs until our abs hurt, chocolate, more chocolate, more laughter that caused tears, there were dates and hangovers and opposite-sex sleepovers for some, dozens of cups of coffee, and a few items lost. On the whole, it was a blast. But it also blasted the stamina out of my Monday. 

I spent my Monday standing in a worthless line at the visa office, followed by aimless wandering and impulse purchases (damn you H&M). I technically had the night off to go out, but after such a full weekend I really did not envision myself going out or going crazy. Tonight was everything I hoped for, a perfect emotional break and tranquil time to do some intellectual reading or personal brain probing, and have little catch-up conversations on Facebook. I love hearing blurbs about friends' lives from home. Things I used to hear on their couch, or in their car, or at a bi-weekly coffee date.

Hearing about time marching on in everyone's world should feel natural - it's life - but it makes my entire life here feel surreal, make pretend. Slap me for this cliché, but my life here does not feel real. I wake up every single morning and by noon I've already thought to myself at least once, "How fucking beautiful is it that this is my life?" Well self, it is pretty damn beautiful. I am the happiest I have been in ages. And not an impermanent or momentary happiness, but a serious joy. One that just overflows into my day. Sure, I have moments of homesickness. I would sell an organ to snuggle my dog, I wish I were at friend's triathlon and half-marathon finishes, my little sister's first high school dance, my Dad's birthday, and don't even get me started on what it will be like away from home on the holidays. 

And yes, I encounter immense frustrations as well. Being an au pair is really, truly frustrating at times guys. Living in a house that's not yours, raising someone else's kids, not to mention those kids don't really owe you a whole lot, like respect or anything like that. It can be frustrating and testing. I'm grateful for the life and social skills I had before this - but I learn new ones every day working with kids. I am better at choosing my battles. I do my best and let that be enough. When things don't go how I planned for them to go (like 98% of the time when you're with small children) I just go wherever that moment and new wave is taking me. 

But thoughts of homesickness and frustration don't dominate my mind or my days. They do not nearly define them. Moving here was selfish, but it was the best thing I've done for myself - and right now I'm okay with that. Munich I love you! Life I love you!