I’ve only been back in Australia for ten days. It feels a tiny bit like ten years. I’ve been slightly vegetable like. And although I really am making a conscious effort to participate in life… the past week and change has essentially been a perpetual out of body experience.

I’m going out tonight to dance to Russian gypsy music with one of my favorite people. One of the only people who is capable of gently gripping my ankles and planting me back on the ground as I await my fate. I’m hoping to know what’s happening with my friendly job posse in Manhattan come Friday. My brain is super keen to switch gears to what’s next…

Speaking of my friendly job posse in Manhattan, I wandered over to my desk today to see my phone lit up with a missed call… New York City number.

The funny thing is, I didn’t even think it would be my friendly job crew, I figured it was a cult member with a misplaced phone dialing up to give me their new number accompanied with, “Yo. You don’t even know the night I’ve had. I can’t believe I lost another phone.”

But that’s not what happened at all.

Instead, my rapid redial was greeted with quite a lovely, “Oh! Goodness. This is a bit embarrassing… I didn’t meant to call you. I meant to call (insert reference here).”

I think I’m so excited that I’m in an utter state of shock. I haven’t even called any of my NYC locals for a giggle session. This is all quite surreal actually.

Nothing a crew of Russian gypsies can’t shake out of me…