When the extraordinary becomes ordinary

I was reading someone else's blog today, and read a sentance from one of his previous entries that sums up how I feel about living in England. He wrote "This isn't just some big adventure anymore, this is where I live."

And that pretty much sums it up. I don't notice certain things over here that other people marvel at, because it's not some big adventure any more. The architecture is still amazing, but there are days when I walk to work, my head down, shouldering my way across intersections and take no notice of it. I go to Oxford Street regularly to work (although thank something that tomorrow is my second-to-last shift, because working 6 days a week is killing me), I shop for groceries at the Asian supermarket one street off Leicester Square, and know short cuts through Soho.

It's just...life. I worry about paying my bills. I have to buy groceries, and each time we move find stores that sell the kinds of things I want to use. I go to work every day, go home, eat dinner, and mess around on the computer. My 'local' pub is opposite the British Museum, but that's just where it is. It's not special.

After a point, you just stop seeing things around you as new, exciting and different, because you can't constantly go around being amazed with everything. Which is kinda sad, really.