Sunday 17 April 2011

Rocky Rio?

SO, I've called this blog this because it's how I'm feeling at the moment. You know what you're climbing over rocks and the next step looks secure but everytime you lift your foot, the rock you're standing on jiggles around making you convinced you'll slip and plummet to your death, smashing your beautiful face against the rocks so your mum won't be able to give you an open casket funeral cos your nose and teeth will be so mangled you'll be barely recognisable? That's how I'm feeling at the moment.

I'm sitting in my apartment in Rio de Janeiro - somewhere I've longed to be for the past 7 years of my life - and I'm feeling kinda fuzzy about what I'm doing let alone what I should be doing.

I'm not making any sense...

This time last year, I was in a job that I loathed, but with amazing people earning good money. I had a great apartment in Brixton with flatmates I adored. Good friends, good times - but I wanted to be in Rio.

I felt like if I got a TEFL qualification, I could move to Brazil and live the life I'd wanted. Teaching and being surrounded by samba, my one true love - what more could you ask for?

Fast forward a year and I'm here. I've got my CELTA certificate. I'm in Rio, yet something's missing. And I can tell you now what that is. Money. Skrilla. Dough. Benjamins. Dolla. Reis. Pounds sterling.

I've been here for nearly two months, handing out flyers and sending off CVs to Rio's most (and least) prestigious English schools. Through a friend of a friend, I managed to wrangle and interview with a new school who wanted me! Finally, I thought. It's starting. I can begin my Rio life. Being a grown up person with a job! Means to support herself! I can go out and buy some mascara!(I've been looking like I've had no eyelashes since my Maybelline ran out).

However... the job wants me to start, um, about 3 weeks before I'm due to fly home.
"Just change your flights!" I hear you shout. And yes, I have thought about that. But a conversation had with my other half about 30mins before I began writing this reminded me that I already owe him shedloads of $ and I'm not sure how I'll pay rent if I stay longer, let alone the extra money airlines inexplicably charge you for taking your name off one flight and entering it onto another. Also, my little sister is having her first baby in July and the longer I stay the longer I'll miss out being skinnier than her.

Not sure what that next step is but I'm sure I'll let you know.

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