Observation:

Why is it so difficult to get work done at home? I have taken to making the 2 hour communte from my apartment to Limerick's city centre for the sole purpose of sitting in a cafe for a couple of hours, refreshing my pot of mint tea on occasion, and writing up a backlog of continuous assessment journals for my classes that could have been written just as easily at the table in my living room back home. I could have saved myself the commute, and I wouldn't have had to change out of my pajamas and into these pesky high heeled boots... what's wrong with me?
I suppose being out in public and looking like a person puts on the necessary pressure to be as productive as I look... while at home, I will more often than not waste entire evenings reading "extracurricular" library books, listening to podcasts, taking bubble baths, "renting" mediocre movies from itunes, and checking my email inbox at regular intervals for no reason.
I need to start doing things more suitable to my status as expat-in-training, like "making weekend jaunts to the continent," and "drinking." Friends tell wild tales of their year abroad, and seem to view it in the light of the Grand Tour of bygone days... a chance to sow some wild oats and get all of the ungentlemanly/unladylike behavior out of one's system as far from the restrictions and repercussions of home as possible. Alas, my adventures thus far read more like Bridget Jones than Anais Nin. I will just have to start making things up.