Today, my boss Will offered me really good terms to work in Yantai next year. (I’d get a lot of nice things, and none of that pesky responsibility junk) I really like my job, I like my students, and I make a decent salary. The solitude and the crazy adventures of expat life make a really good combination for a writer.
But I’m really sick of being treated like a celebrity with communicable leprosy. I’m constantly frustrated by my attempts at Mandarin. And, you might not have noticed, but I really hate the food here.
And, if I go home, I can be with Stick. I miss being a girlfriend even more than I miss cheese. More than movie theaters, rye bread, the quizzes in Cosmo, personal space and everything else on my list of things to fully appreciate when I go back home. But I don’t have a job, and when I go back to Western Mass, I won’t be an awesome China expat, just another new grad with little-to-no marketable skills.
I have to look at this like I’ve got a great boyfriend and a great job, and not as a choice between being lonely and being unsuccessful.