I thought for once I would start at the beginning instead of jumping right the middle of things like I normally do.

Here is #1 of this months Sh1ft.org Q&A challenge: What is the first thing you see in the morning?

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The background changes, different rooms and cities and states and countries, but for the last six and a half years, this is what I’ve seen when I wake up every morning. Doesn’t matter how unfamiliar the place is this stays the same, it’s part of the reason I find it so easy to pack up my life and move to a different place, home is always that scruffy hair and that faded tattoo.

Don’t forget to check out T & J’s progress as they work through the sh1ft.org challenges as well:

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Life is so strange at the moment, with the countdown to New Zealand ticking away, and our house practically empty, and hubby working so many hours. I’m finally able to sleep at nights with the help of my CEO’s extra sleeping bags, and some herbal sleeping pills, which means at least I’m not a raving lunatic during daylight hours anymore – this is a huge relief to my husband, who is the person responsible from talking me down from the rooftop when I enter into crazyville! – and I’m almost used to sitting on a fold out camping chair in the middle of my bare loungeroom like some crazy homeless squatter, and I hardly notice anymore that all my work clothes are crumpled and unprofessional looking from having everything squished into my little backpack.. it’s really quite amazing what you can get used to.

The one thing I’m not used to yet is the fact that I’m spending so much time without my husband. For the past few years we have spent almost every evening together, he cooks dinner for us, which we eat together at the table with some interesting conversation and we go to bed at the same time, read a little, talk a little, fool around a little then sleep. But at the moment he’s working nights and at first it was all “Woohoo! Time alone!” and I would watch movies I’ve already seen (hubby hates that) and eat cupcake mix right from the bowl and take extra long showers and spend too long on the phone with the girls. But the novelty seems to have worn off and now I’m all “Hohum empty house” and I wander around sighing like a malcontent and looking longingly at the empty fold out camping chair next to me as I watch “The Breakfast Club” for the seven hundredth time.

By the time he gets home from work I’m all cozy and asleep so even though I wake up and hug him hello and ask him how his night went, I’m usually asleep before he’s finished telling me about the woes of his day and since our beautiful king sized pillow top bed is in a container half way to New Zealand and we are sleeping on inflatable mattresses we don’t even really have the luxury of spooning the night away to recharge the husband deficit. He wakes up in the morning to drive me to work so we do at least have 10 minutes together in the morning but with so much going to plan before our final flight those minutes are more like business meetings than romantic rendezvous. I remind him that he only has 3 more weeks to organise the wedding name change on his passport before our international flight, and he tells me the times that the real estate agent needs access to the house to show prospective tenants through our walk in wardrobe. I give him a shopping list and remind him of our ever dwindling bank balance and he gives me a bag with his shoes inside, the ones that need the sole fixed before we leave town. Then we kiss goodbye and I climb the stairs to my office to start another – poorly motivated – work day.

I’m lucky enough this week that we’ve managed to have one day off together, a whole 24 hours of bliss.. this Sunday. Until then though, I’ll be the one walking through the empty house all glazed eyed and zombie-ish with a reheated frozen pie in one hand dreaming about the days of gourmet meals and chatter.

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