I've been back home for just under two weeks, which is hard to believe. I jumped back into the shift-work scene all too quickly, which I soon learned to regret. Don't get me wrong, I do love my job, but it was a bit of a shock to the system to face the music only 3 and a half days after getting back to London (I only have myself to blame, I'm afraid). I can't honestly say there haven't been a few 'meltdown' moments, and I basically feel very much like the Grinch most of the time, but besides that I suppose I'm learning to adjust a little more each day. I thought it would be really wonderful to be back in good ol' Canada, but as it happens I just really miss what my life looked like for the past four months. I'd like to think my priorities (and certainly my view of the world) have shifted significantly over the past couple of months.Stepping out of one's comfortable, safe little existence and into something strange and new (and, might I add, risky) is an invaluable experience. Walking a mile or two in the shoes of another teaches you not only about what life is like for others, but it also teaches you a great deal about yourself; your character, namely. But what matters most is not what you saw or what you did there, but rather what you DO with such an experience. If it holds no lasting bearing, no true meaning that lives on, then what will have been the point? And so this is the question that I am faced with every moment of every day. I only hope that it won't wear off, and that I'll make all of this matter somehow, someday....
