Expectation Vs Reality

I’ve officially been back in England for 9 whole months.
But it seems like only yesterday I was in Thailand.
I can still smell the flavours of bubbling oil mixed with deep fried banana, feel the excitement of choosing where to go that weekend, the wave of relaxation as I stepped out of my condo and felt the blistering heat beat down on me and the nausea that washed through me as I stepped on a wobbly pavement and stagnant water (I hope?) splashed across the back of my leg.

I was reading through my travel journal recently and it made me realise how different repatriation expectation is against reality.

Expectation:
I can’t wait to get home! I can eat at that restaurant I missed so much! I’ll have a proper wardrobe again! I’ll see people all the time! Everything will be different! OMG BUBBLE BATHS!
Reality:
Ate at that restaurant. Don’t really care about having a wardrobe again. Work is busy. Friends are busy. Nothing’s different. Still love bubble baths though.

Expectation:
I’m going to use my new found language skills whenever I can!
Reality:
I’ve used them twice. Once when I said “Sawadee Ka” when I walked into a Thai restaurant, and the second when I started ordering our takeaway in Thai and didn’t realise until I was half way through ordering and realised I had forgotten what “spring rolls” were. Cue applause for my pathetic attempt, laughter for my failure and no further attempt to use my new found language skills.

Expectation:
I’m so going to put up this hammock that I drunkenly bought in Khaosan Road and relax in it with books and stuff, and I’m most definitely going to wear these my elepants all the time when I get back home!
Reality:
The hammock never made it home. Which is a good job really, because seriously, where would I even hang it? The elepants however were wore worn at every (indoor) opportunity and have since died a well-loved death until I learn to sew forever.

Expectation:
Everyone is going to be so excited to see me!
Reality:
Ok so most people were stupidly excited to see S and I back on home soil. My mum smiled, cried, then told me off for keeping secrets. My best friend didn’t recognise me, went into shock and later called to check it was really me that went to see her or if I had a twin that she just never knew about. My sister woke from her slumber, cried, then slapped herself because she thought she was dreaming, and there was a whole lot of squealing from my girls. But it turns out if you come home as a surprise you will get told off a few times, especially by the ones closest to you whom never got the chance to cash in on their rent free holiday home.

Expectation:
Everyone is going to be so interested in all of our escapades, I  can’t wait to tell them everything!
Reality:
Them: “How was your trip?”
Me: (*Hmm, how do I sum up 13 months of adventure, confusion, chaos and amazing memories into one reply?*) “Good.”
Them: “Cool. We got a new bridge over the train-tracks, my dog knows how to roll over now and we got two more generic restaurants in town. One’s another Italian, but the other is Wagamamas, and we’re excited about Wagamamas. You’ve missed loads.

Expectation:
I’m going to get a proper job and really make a career in writing.
Reality:
WHY IS IT SO GODDAMN HARD TO GET INTO THE WRITING INDUSTRY.

Expectation:
I don’t need a vehicle. I’m going to use public transport and be healthy and walk everywhere.
Reality:
Train’s delayed. Again. My feet hurt. *Runs home to buy car*

Expectation:
I’m going to wow everybody with my new culinary goddess skills and throw the most amazing Thai flavoured dinner party ever!
Reality:
Where on earth do I find these ingredients? Why isn’t street food readily available everywhere here? How much!? Do I really have to cook AGAIN? *Takes friends to a Thai restaurant instead*

Expectation:
I’m going to play tourist in my own country, see everything with new eyes and go somewhere new EVERY week.
Reality:
Started well. Saw things. Started job that required me to work weekends. Realised nobody has weekdays off except me. Winter came. Realised I hate playing tourist in the cold unless it’s covered in snow, because yay snow! Went home, put on elepants and Googled flights to warm countries.

Expectation:
I’m not going to gain all of the weight I lost from swimming, walking and sweating my goddamn ass off in that inferno country.
Reality:
MMM CARBS NOMNOMNOM.