I wake from an unsettling dream about zombies. All of my former students from Wellington are either zombies or at risk of being turned into a zombie, but the zombies are surprisingly chill. Maybe it  wouldn’t be so bad to be a zombie? Or maybe they are just acting and this is all an improvisation exercise? I am trying to teach them about the locuteur/interlocuteur role in textual analysis.  Unsurprisingly it is challenging in the zombie apocalypse context but there is something meaningful about storytelling I am trying to convey. Like I’m some kind of expert?  I’m just the librarian; what would I know.  

I can’t seem to get back to sleep so I decide to have a squizz through the kitchen cupboards and see what is around. I microwave a packet of popcorn and make a box of macaroni and cheese. It’s my first mac and cheese in probably 10 years? I honestly can’t remember the last time I ate it… I resist the urge to eat the whole bag of popcorn and bowl of mac n cheese just as comfort food. There is a decent selection of herbal teas but it looks like the mice have gotten into it. I will deal with that in the daylight tomorrow.

As I sit eating my 3am snacks I notice red and blue flashing lights of a police car go by. They don’t have the sirens on – just the bright lights swirling as they zoom down the street. This is not a main street or a thoroughfare.   It’s a fairly suburban side street. I suddenly panic that they are coming for me – I could just imagine a 3am raid for unpaid student loans in Trump’s America. But they speed away down the street. A few minutes later another police car follows… again flashing their bright lights, announcing their presence. But they don’t stop. I imagine the poor family that are the targets of their frenzied middle-of-the-night policing. Maybe I should start sleeping with a bra on just in case I do end up being a 4am raid victim? But it is Friday night… maybe it’s just a wild house party or a drunk driver. Here I am again jumping to conclusions.

My snacks are done and it is time to try to sleep again for a bit.

Even though over the years I have always been a frequent visitor, there is something different about this trip. I hope I can start to unpack some of these emotional roller coaster I am on before it runs away with me. Why do I hate it here so much? Is it normal to feel so much disdain for the place you come from? Why did I go so far away? How can I manage my love for 2 people on opposite sides of the planet? What happens next?