It's been 2 months and 10 days since I first moved to Tasmania for work. I am still in a quandary about being here. The longest I have had doubts about anywhere. I can't sleep, I have nightmares regularly about being betrayed by people I trust, I lie in bed for hours in the morning so I don't have to get up and face the day. And yet, it hasn't been all bad. Perhaps it is just that part of me that needs to deal with being here, but I've had some good times. Experiences that I wonder why I do not enjoy more. I've made a good friend in Carli, and we've had the kind of hang outs that I've wanted to have for a very long time. We get to watch movies with cheezles and tea. We get to go on hikes and watch swans and possums in their natural habitat and people on jet skis on the river bend. Work is okay - they haven't quite worked me to the bone, and they've probably been nicer to me that staff at NSW hospitals would have been. I'm getting to spend tim