On Saturday night we went for a friend’s birthday and met a bunch of new people. This is always fun and demoralising; fun because our social group here is a bit small so meeting new people is always welcome, and demoralising because inevitably the question comes up, “So, what do you DO here?” and I have to answer, “I don’t do anything.”
You can imagine the effect this has on my self-esteem.
It has plunged me back into a mini-depression and has got me thinking about my options. What COULD I do here?
Well, I suppose I could study. Except that we’re only here for another 2 years and in that time I’ll be having a baby, which doesn’t leave much room for completing the course of a Masters (and I’ve discovered most Masters programs here are three years long anyway). I’d really hate to start something only to leave it hanging when we leave. I like things neat and tidy.
I suppose I could do more photography, except for the fact that I’m not really inspired to take many pictures in Beijing. It’s flat and grey and apart from places like the Forbidden City, it’s quite boring. And so, yes, I could take more pictures but I’m not inspired by China.
I could write. Yes, there’s always THAT. Writing a real book instead of a blog. The thing is, I have no idea what I would write about. I’ve tried and it just doesn’t work. I sit in front of the lap top and just stare at the screen. I have enough drama going on in my own life that creating a fictional drama seems ridiculous.
I could have a baby. Oh yeah, except D doesn’t want one right now.
I’ve figured out that the only way to stay afloat and not sink into a total depression is not to look at the big picture and to stop thinking about what I’m going to do in a general sense, but to think about what am I going to do TODAY.
And today that’s getting a manicure, going for a tan at the salon, and grabbing a lunch somewhere.
(I suppose there’s always the option of going home as well, I’m just not thinking about that today.)
5 Comments
March 31, 2009 at 8:06 pm
what about a shorter term course, you can i know do some 12 week courses etc in specialist subjects?
Also i think the idea of thinking what you do today is good thing, have you thought about volunteering somewhere? even if it was say listening to children read at the ex pat schools? I can’t imagine how hard it is, but maybe you need to think outside of the box a little bit. Like making clothes? or learning to knit? x
March 31, 2009 at 8:39 pm
I *could* do some short term courses, but English options are limited here, and any kind of volunteering around kids would make my ovaries ache too much so that’s out.
I wish I could learn how to knit; but a) I have no idea where to buy yarn or needles, b) I can’t buy any English books to teach me the technique.
Living in China is sometimes really limiting…
March 31, 2009 at 9:29 pm
i shouldn’t but i am laughing at your ovaries hurting, great phrase! my dad lived in hong kong for a long time so i know it is very limiting from being out there. This might help http://impressionknits.blogspot.com/2006/05/knitting-shops-in-beijing-and-shanghai.html
xxx
April 1, 2009 at 9:09 pm
I was thinking about suggesting you write a book, but if there “isn’t a book in you”, you simply can’t force it out.
Perhaps you could set up some sort of networking for other spouses and busy yourself with that?
How about experimenting in the kitchen with some of the exotic foods out there?
You can always do my work… x
April 2, 2009 at 9:29 am
respectableside – Thanks for the info! I live quite close to one of those places so I’ll go check it out…
bluesoup – I think the problem is that I haven’t commited to really living here because I’m not sure if I want to stay. I was iffy from the beginning; I didn’t want to leave my job, and I was *finally* getting my shit together in Ottawa, and to be honest, things weren’t that great between us the last year. We struggled with living together on a daily basis and I think we turned a blind eye to a lot of our problems thinking it was put on by the stress of China. I think we’re realising that we’re two fundamentally different people. I want my 9 to 5, the house that turns into a home over the years, a local pub where I know the owner and the patrons, a family, cottages in the summer, BBQs with friends. Basically, a quiet life. He wants adventure and fun at every turn.
Being here was either going to pull us together or tear us apart, and unfortunately I think it’s the later that’s winning at the moment.