I have been set adrift.
I've left Iceland, but the place where I am now, sharing Emi's room in Brighton is only temporary. I haven't found routines for my work, and I won't have time to, as we leave the country in just a week and when we return, we will move to a different part of the country.
It's a strange feeling.
I sit at a pub in Brighton's Kemp Town (a.k.a. Camp Town), trying to create the sort of isolation I need to focus. Surrounded by middle aged Brits and their dogs. Tattoos and grey hair, trainers and walking sticks. A man in fishnets, Mickey Mouse ears and a silver sparkle sequin dress walks in, greets his mates, wanders off again. All so familiar and all so alien. It's not a place I would go for fun or companionship, but I drifted here and it gives me just the right balance of isolation and people to watch. I can work here.