Kalgoorlie

Most sensible people who feel like a change will get a haircut, or look for a new job. You might even move house if you feel like torturing yourself. I decided to move to the other side of the country.

My life wasn't bad. I had a nice solid job as a staffer to a federal politician, earning enough to rent a one bedroom apartment in a decent part of Sydney's east. My social life was definitely lacking, but I'd get out for breakfast on Saturdays, or dinner in Surry Hills regularly enough that I didn't feel like a shut in. I had a devoted ex boyfriend (a truly lovely man) wanting to marry me and make me the mother of his children.

But I was stuck. Anxiously, tearfully, hideously stuck. And I didn't want any of it anymore.

So I moved to Kalgoorlie.

Kalgoorlie, in all her red dirted glory

To be honest, I didn't quite know what else to do.

I'm writing this as an outlet, a way to try and make sense of what I'm doing and where I am and what I'm experiencing. I'm going to need all the help I can get!