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Writer's pictureLeah Jones

Life slows down in London.

Even though today was very busy, I don’t have a lot to tell. I spent the day in interviews–not as the candidate, but with a candidate for my current position. Even though I certainly do not want the job, there is something a little wierd about spending the day with your possible replacement. Partly it made me remember that I was a Hall Director for two years. That’s it. Two years. I didn’t go on and get my master’s degree in College Student Personell or Counseling. Oh wait, I didn’t get a master’s degree.

I am also getting ready to go home for a ten days in ten days. I am looking forward to seeing Spidey and drinking fresh-brewed Kona cofee. Sleeping in my own bed and having a shower that I can turn in, where I can get out from underneath the water. Most of the time I will be at the shop, so if anyone wants to find me I will be wrapping candy at Sweet Occasions and scooping ice cream. I am afraid to see how weak my right arm has become after not-scooping for three months.

And I will be very cold and get a sneak-preview of the reverse culture shock that will hit when I go home for good in March. I kind of think going home will make the last few weeks harder, instead of easier. That it might make me regret my decision to leave London. But I know that I don’t have this job in me and the students of the hall deserve more than I can give them.

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