Moving to the country.

I am now a journalist. I had been applying for like six months. Got nothing. Then suddenly, BOOM…three offers in one week. Seriously.

And the shit thing is, that I took the first one… but it is probably the most dull.

So I am now living in the country, and have upped a population of 2700 by one.

I joined the local netball team, although I have never played in my life.

And I have found a coffee shop that has barista coffee.

Life is good. Life is simple.13692525_10153858527918380_1917908667650982026_n

There are no organic cafes that only serve almond milk and kale, no cross fit clubs that charge $80 so you can jump for 30 minutes, no high end shopping strips that you need a Mimco phone cover to enter without judgment and no clubs that have you queueing up for 45 minutes and then slug you $20 to go in and pay another $18 for a beer.

These people are all about people. They walk, they talk, they drink and they play. There are horses next door and everything I’m surrounded by is green and blue.

 

 

So far so good….

 

Until I need something from K-Mart. Or a sugar free cruiser. Then I’m screwed. Stay tuned.

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