Stability

7 months. What a naughty, neglectful blogger I am. 7 months ago, I was different. The world was dfferent. The full and horrible meaning of "credit crunch" and "world financial crisis" had not quite hit wth its full force yet... the Lehman Brothers closure, we thought, was an unfortunate singular incident.
And, 7 months ago, I hadn't yet moved house, to move in with myself - quite the crazy experiment. I am now what the rest of the world considers "Quite-Grown-Up". The Quite-Grown-Up me owns things. There is a fridge, an oven, a bed, a washing machine and a cholent pot among other acquisitions. Somehow, I have found myself in gainful, full-time employment. A Single Quite-Grown-Up, making her way in the world/Tel Aviv, living in the heart of a vibrant city that never sleeps.. By the beach, I would add, just so you'll come visit me... it all sounds objectively good and normal.
Well then of course secretly - oh and, for example, not SO secretly because I will actually tell anyone who will listen - I Want to Break Free("eee").
I want to sell my things,my oven, my cholent pot - pack my bags and run off to a European location, to start all over again. Because beginnings are the best bit. When I first moved here, people kept patting me on the back, crooning "all beginnings are hard." Not for me, no sirree. Am just a bit bored by repetition, by sameness. Can a person actually be bored by stability? is it stability thats boring, or routine? why are they tied together, in my head? After a year, my job has become mind-numbing, I'm antsy and I keep looking for the neon green Exit signs. Then, for the first time in ages, a guy i was on a date with last week actually asked me about israel and "my intentions." Yes, i replied, i plan to make an honest woman out of her. As an israeli on a date with a new immigrant he, quite rightly, wanted to know if i saw myself staying here, raising children, building my life here. Evidently my talk of running away to Amsterdam, riding a bicycle around and learning to play piano for a year had not assured him of my own stability. Which, in turn, is not the impression i want to give off. Where does this leave me? Somewhere between bored, hopeful and frustrated. A complicated place to be, on a Sunday morning.