This weekend has been a bit of a washout. Thankfully I had a lot of fun at the start thanks to skyping my whole class at their grad ball, which was nuts but lovely and made me feel so special and loved (thanks girls)
|my gorgeous girls rebecca and jenny. pic taken by the lovely sandy|
Husband and I went out a few times for drinks to celebrate my graduating and being an actual, official, Bachelor of Nursing (Child Health) with distinction, but I was a little sad I missed graduation and the ball.
We also got to skype the bulk of our group of friends who were having a weekend together in London. It was hilarious and heartbreaking in equal measure. The homesickness was a big crashing wave that left a flood in it's wake. We bobbed along in it for most of the afternoon. I missed laughing like that. I missed hearing the stories, feeling absolutely comfortable with those around me. They swore too much, were all drunk and I realised how sensible and quiet out lives are here. I want to curse like a sailor and drink gin and gossip about people we know.
I've been surprised how easy it's been to mostly hang out with husband. We have really good fun together. But I miss the drunken chat. The screaching laughter. The shouting at one another and debating politics and life and everything else. I miss having a group of friends we both just slot in to, no effort required. An old friend of husband's from his uni days is arriving for 36 hours on Thursday. I can't wait.
I've been ill since Saturday. I have the cold and have been super nauseous with it (not that unusual for me). I've been pathetic and napped a lot and been struggling to eat much. I got some amazing chicken noodle soup for lunch which husband decreed 'tasted like home'. We debated for ages what exactly about the soup tasted like home, and we decided it was the cooked carrots. Cooked carrots taste like home. There's a sentence I never thought I'd say.