Travelling

Had some Aussie friends over, so we had dinner together. So happy to see them, even though they come to SG quite often. Mind you, these are the people that made our stay in AU so much more meaningful, and they really eased us in. They helped us settle in - went shopping with us at Salvo(Salvation Army), passed us household stuff, lent us the washing machine, pulled all these in their trailer, helped us find a car, and even serviced the car for us! We get invited to all extended family gatherings. We became part of the family. We are deeply, deeply indebted to their sincerity, generosity and love.

Anyway, to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary, they will be flying off to Canada to enjoy the Alaskan cruise. A remarkable achievement, 25 years, by any measure. We wish them many more 25 years to come!

It got me thinking of my love for travelling.

Do I really like to travel?
Do I really want to know about their cultures, history and stuff?
Is travelling really a form of therapy?
Do I really go for bargain hunting while overseas?

Or is it that I just want to get away from it all, literally?
To leave behind the unhappiness and burden of work, to have a choice of whether to respond to a call or an SMS or not, to be able to exist in a parallel dimension where I'm holidaying while there are people still worrying about the work I delegated?

I think I am an escapist. If I eventually find a job that I adore, I suspect my interest in travelling will subside.

On the way back, Wifey was analysing with me categorically on why I've become so unhappy at work. I tend to agree with her. The character analysis test I did recently also suggests a wrong job-personality fit.

So why haven't I done IT??