I am fickle.

I am definitely fickle. This much is clear. I don't post for months and then, whoosh, off goes M for a week of Greek sun (and, I shouldn't wonder, debates on the finer points of Nietzsche and Dostoesvsky with his two super-clever companions) and within a mere matter of hours, my blog is the proud owner of a brand spanking new post.

No matter. Here I am anyway.

It is likely, actually, that I'll be hanging around here a little more often from now on. Not only is M away for a week, but my two best friends here came to the end of their European adventure and have gone back to Canada. So I now have, like, three friends left here. And two of those are colleagues.

The Last Lunch with one of the departing friends was yesterday, which should have been a sad occasion. However it is impossible to be melancholy in the company of a golden retriever puppy (who my friend was dogsitting), who oscillated between fighting with her own lead, dragging my friend twice round a lamppost, and flirting in the restaurant with a man who gave her prawn crackers (the dog, not my friend).

Not much else to tell, I suppose. M and I are hot on the trail of jobs back home. Yes, we too have come to the end of our time here, and lovely as it has been, I am keen to get back to Albia now. Also, I am thoroughly cheesed off with not actually earning enough money to live off and watching my savings slowly trickle away. It's depressing.

So. That's me then.

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