I have truly screwed this one up. See, I spent 3 years in Dublin asking God to let me go back to Sydney. I asked a lot. I asked often. I'd look outside at the gloomy, greyness and the persistent sideways drizzle (that rarely matured into 'rain' but still meant my GHD was useless) and I'd say 'Please God let me go back to Sydney'. Sometime around January God listened. James resigned and we started making plans to get back to Sydney. I was happy. I was, if you'll excuse the twee-ness, Singin' in the Rain.
So I arrived in Sydney in mid-July with this song in my heart, a skip in my step and an overwhelming sense of relief. We were here. The hard part was over and now the happily ever after part would just take hold. It's a little like my whole 'Please God just let me be thin for my wedding photos' scenario ... My question was a bit short-sighted. I was thin for my wedding photos - but that was 1 day ... the day after I started eating carbs. I asked God to take me to Sydney, but I didn't really explain what I wanted when I GOT HERE.
I want the whole story ok? I want us to be healthy, employed and settled. I didn't want us to all be sick one after the other and often all at the same time for weeks on end. I didn't want the stress of financial woe and joblessness. I thought that was a given, but it turns out I should have mentioned that in my little chats with the big Guy. I didn't think it would all be this hard. I had no idea. No matter how much I wanted out of Dublin, I didn't want Sydney like THIS.
So I'm asking now. Please God, let me be in Sydney and be happy. I know I'm asking for a lot, but can you at least think about it? I have time. I'll work with you. Just give me a sign there's a possibility it will happen? Thanks. Oh and thank you for MacKenzie. You did really good there.