Can you believe that after seven months since my return to you, people are still asking me why I came back? Just last week at breakfast an auntie asked me “Why don’t you continue working there? Malaysia economy and politic is so bad now, stay in New Zealand better.”
As part of my goal to overcome my fear of selling and confrontation whilst on my Working Holiday stint in New Zealand, I took up a job as a street fundraiser. What is it, you ask?
If there is one thing I want to humble brag about, it’s this.
Here I am writing under a red-headed tree, enjoying the perfect winter weather – sunny with a crisp, cooling breeze.
I buried a dead bird today.
She must have fallen from the sky.
There are little black dots at my workplace.
They crawl next to me, little black dots the size of a full stop moving their tiny legs feverishly on the wall to my right.
She slams. She smacks her chair hard. She slaps the table with a thunderous clap that would shatter a thousand chandeliers.
What happens when Wanderlust hits you, and you contract the travel bug?
It’s an itch you can’t stop scratching, a shiver you can’t shake off, a condition you do not want to cure.