Here I am, standing outside the big office block in the historical City of London. Men in pin stripe suits and women in smart skirts whizz by me. I am just a small rat in the middle of the race. I am also the only spot of colour, wearing a red coat, but surrounded by a sea of grey.
Deep breath, in we go. I meet the HR lady, get given my badge, am shown to my desk. And the next three weeks go by in a blur.
I am hating it. I am hating getting up early, going through manic days that resemble each other and that leave me totally exhausted. I am hating the fact I barely seem to do anything else than work, sleep and eat during the work week. I am hating public transport. By local standards I live "close" to work, but gosh I miss my 10 minute ride to work on the escalator in HK. I miss my mad HK friends, my flat, even my gym (wtf?). I am hating the weather, despite a couple of weeks of tropical heat we are now back on rainy, cold miserable mode, and it's only July.
I am loving it. I am loving reconnecting with work life and London. Strutting about in posh work clothes a cappuccino in one hand, a sandwich in the other. I love making my brain work again. I love planning all these catch up sessions with friends I have not seen for ages, sometimes even a couple of years. And most of all, I love the fact I spend my week ends with a sexy, witty, adorable and adoring British man.
So the emotions are a mixture of extremes, with a lot of love/hate going on. But the dust is settling, and so am I, finding my little space in this big big city.