Andre

I’m not known for patience. Perhaps it’s a family thing. My da will usually sneak back out to the garage arfter dinner to do more work to avoid the 90 secs he might have to wait for his cup of tea to be ready. He has this little ‘manic, obsessive’ trait that comes out from time to time. I use those words cause that’s how he describes me when i’m in one of those moods.

This impatience extends to everything, be it making food (what do you mean microwave for 60 secs, I could be dead by then!), exams (no, I’m not checking the answers to the MCQs, once they’re done they’re done), conversation (get to the flippin point!), technology (if a device has a standby that I don’t have to turn it fully off i’ll use it), and work (i used to triage, examine, treat and dispense my own drugs, and discharge patients in A&E before nursing staff even got near them).

And so i’ve been in NZ (from now on, new zealand will be referred to as NZ, so get used to it) for the grand total of 1 week. And I still don’t feel settled, or at home. Now to most people this would be perfectly normal, i’m not meant to be settled yet. I’m still meant to be recovering from jet lag.

Yet I, expected to arrive as a fully-fledged Kiwi, where everyone knew me and I knew them and we were all a wonderful happy family and I knew where the forms were and how the phones worked and the price of cheese and somewhere to live and the silly rule where someone turning across the lane of traffic has right of way and people wouldn’t think I was called andrè when I say andrew and this is a very long sentence with minimal punctuation so i’ll stop and we can have a collective indrawing of breath.

And so I need to stop. And ‘chill’ so to speak and give things a bit of time and stop chomping at the bit at everything.

Funny, i’ve been here only a week and i’ve learnt stuff about myself that I didn’t even realise was there. Kind of cool.

Now da would argue that he’s known all this for years and there’d be a mighty ‘i told you so’ and a ‘you should listen to me more often’ but then he probably lost patience during the very long sentence earlier and is off in the shed categorising all his screws and nails.

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September 2006
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