Although it seems to be my fate now.

Not that I mind a nice vacation every so often. But that hardly makes up for trying to find our way through the international maze of various regulations and company imposed living conditions and languages that I don't comprehend and....all I really want is a home that is mine.

I do not like living in *exotic* countries. I do not like the visa/residency/language problems. I do not look forward to encountering exotic cultures and foods and customs. I'm tired of trying to figure out which way is up and which side of the international dateline I live on and where Greenwich Meantime is and which side of it I am on and how to buy a bus ticket in some place I have never seen before. Not.

Traveling is not my thing. I would sell my soul right now for a house on a foundation on any continent where I could stay forever and ever and would be mine. A home I would never have to leave again.

Some people envy my position. If I could, I would hand it to them on a silver platter and say "Here, you go and live in some unknown place where you have no friends and no idea what is going on because you can't speak whatever language is spoken in whatever country this is, go and be excited with the adventure of it all. I'm going home to tend my roses." Yes, I would love to say that.

I hate being an international vagabond. I really do. (but don't tell anybody else. Our secret I'm such a weiner)

*sigh*

mrs_madness