
What even is a home? Is it a city? A country? An apartment? I’ve changed homes a lot in my life. Maybe that’s where my restless soul comes from; a soul that always has to explore and discover something new. I adjust and make myself at home quickly, but I have trouble admitting that any of the new locations could be considered my home. My home city is Celje. That’s where my home is. Forever. The last time I felt at home was also on the Coast. It’s where the surroundings, the city, the locals accepted me. Where I found friends and shelter.
I feel similarly here as well. In Brisbane. Yes, I decided to stay. I accepted the opportunity that was offered. It wasn’t easy, I’ll admit, but it completely made sense. It wasn’t easy because I suddenly canceled becoming a nanny of a family with three children. Because I care. Because I care how they will feel. I was even considering travelling to the West of Australia for a month or so, and wait for them to find a new nanny, then come back. But the new job was already promising first business meetings next week. Yes, I was facing a decision.

``I accepted the opportunity that was offered.``
There are not many opportunities in life like this one. To be sipping coffee, writing postcards, on a sunny day from one of the most beautiful spots in a metropolis, enjoying a cocktail and making a toast to a new experience that awaits you in the next few month. This perfect peace was enhanced by wonderful company and a sunset, which allows you carefree travel, new business experiences and a lot of knowledge. I simply couldn’t refuse. I want this job. I want knowledge. I want new acquaintances. And new skills, which this job will bring me. A lot of responsibilities for a start.
I comforted myself by believing that they definitely understood me. That they would have made the same decision.
Taking care of a family on the other end of Australia haunted me for almost the entire month. I felt guilty. I transformed that guilt into a desire to learn something new. I comforted myself by believing that they definitely understood me. That they would have made the same decision. The feeling of guilt soon evaporated. All that was left was compassion. I still want to meet them someday, visit them and apologize in person. So, they would really believe that it wasn’t an easy decision for me.

``I still can’t fully comprehend what happened.``

``I’m doing something right for life to be pushing me forward.``
But I’m here now. Happy. Overjoyed. I still can’t fully comprehend what happened. I have a job. A dream job. That I was offered a once in a lifetime opportunity. I allow myself to write to my boss: “Thank you for the opportunity. I still can’t believe it. I have to pinch myself multiple times a day to believe it’s real.”
I have to be doing something right in life, I tell myself. I’m doing something right for life to be pushing me forward. Spoiling me. I don’t even spoil myself so much. I don’t even let others spoil me. Or would they?