Some of you will remember that I used to sporadically write about life as an Erasmus student in London, a reverse culture-shocked student/hanging-around-working-in-the-media-person in Berlin and as a journalist in Brighton.
So what happened? Apart from the obvious - Bowie’s death, the Referendum and Trump?
Well, I live in London now and am currently in that brief in-between stage of being off work and waiting for a baby to make it’s way through my pelvis.
Yes, that’s right. I’ve got more time on my hands for today and possibly tomorrow before saying goodbye to any routine I could have created in the past week.
I’m going to have a March baby and it will be just in time for the little fella to enjoy being born in a European Union member state. Hooray! Or not?
Having a baby just before the UK - probably - leaves the EU on - possibly - the 29th March is a weird feeling on top of the odd sensations of experiencing limbs poking through your skin.
I was lucky/unlucky enough to cover various aspects of the referendum for work over the past years, so detaching yourself from major political upheaval is hard during your free time when they affect you personally.
However, being heavily pregnant and having all those duties (at least when you’re an americano-drinking-through Brockwell Park jogging-millenial), such as drinking raspberry leaf tea, oxytocin-stimulating breast squishing and understanding instructions for perineal massage, is pushing the general collapse of British politics somewhat into the background.
I was lucky/unlucky enough to cover various aspects of the referendum for work over the past years, so detaching yourself from major political upheaval is hard during your free time when they affect you personally.
However, being heavily pregnant and having all those duties (at least when you’re an americano-drinking-through Brockwell Park jogging-millenial), such as drinking raspberry leaf tea, oxytocin-stimulating breast squishing and understanding instructions for perineal massage, is pushing the general collapse of British politics somewhat into the background.
I will go into more detail on those effects at another time, but for the time being I am enjoying my little bubble here in south London.
London is massively entertaining and depending where you live, you can even see people being pissed, pissing, shitting and vomiting without even moving from your dining chair. Yup, I did see all of these things, plus a police raid and people getting arrested, whilst eating. And as I am writing this, a hipster guy is taking a pic of the abandoned black leather sofa in front of the run-down property on the other side of the street. Also, I think there is someone living in the white van next to it, most definitely.
So you see, it’s all great fun here in south London.
This is not going to turn into a mummy blog, don’t worry. But the future of me and my status in the UK and the consequential changes to the environment in which the next generation is gonna grow up does make me sweat at night - besides the hormones. The UK isn’t really the most up and coming place to be in right now.
London is fun and everything and the mayor Sadiq Khan runs pro-EU campaigns - we all know that - but that is not and won’t be enough to hide the effects of Brexit.
But for the sake of my unborn child, I wish London would be able to rejoin the EU.
Sadly, like performing a perineal massage, sometimes things just won’t work out. But let’s put that aside for now and push the baby out first.
London is fun and everything and the mayor Sadiq Khan runs pro-EU campaigns - we all know that - but that is not and won’t be enough to hide the effects of Brexit.
But for the sake of my unborn child, I wish London would be able to rejoin the EU.
Sadly, like performing a perineal massage, sometimes things just won’t work out. But let’s put that aside for now and push the baby out first.
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