Oh, wait. You didn't know I was gone?
All of last week, I was staying at the Western Hotel in Balmoral (Victoria) for a self-imposed writer's retreat.
And I completely forgot to post anything about it here. Ouch.
I blame my nervousness for forgetting to post anything about it here.
You see, going and staying in Balmoral for a week - four hours away from home with no car and a single bar of mobile service if I put my phone up on a shelf - was about things other than seeing if I still have it in me to write.
(Which I do, by the way. Short story completed. Score!)
I haven't lived on my own. Ever. I stayed in my Aunt Rubber Ducky's apartment alone sometimes back in the States, but that's about it. Not only that, the longest I'd spent away from The Bloke since I moved here was about... three or four days.
So, beyond the writing, Balmoral also became a test of how I would go being on my own for a week without the input of internet, husband or even home environment.
Even though the time away involved a lot of arse in chair writing time and wandering around the small country town thinking time, I consider it to be a great growing experience.
I learned some things:
1. I can still write and finish something fiction.
2. My personal demons will not come to drive me crazy the moment I am left completely alone.
3. I'm at least mildly attractive, judging by the number of drinks bought for me.
4. I could be happy in the country.
I've come back to the hustle and bustle of suburb living, and I realize that this isn't really the place for me. It's nice and all, but there is a peace in the country - not to mention a sense of safety - that we just don't have here.
Moving is definitely back on the agenda.
All in all, I learned that, yes, I can be happy and content. Now we just need to win the lotto so we can move there...