#LifeGoals

I frequently hashtag 'life goals' on Instagram pictures of me pissed with my mates, but obviously (well, I hope it's obvious), I have slightly higher aspirations for my life than to spend it as a drunk girl in a club wearing a skirt that's too short. Although, I'll admit those nights are onehunnit still on my list of life goals (I'm sorry that I'm such a disappointment mum).

#lifegoals (disclaimer - this was taken in 2014 pre me going vegan - My lifegoals no longer include animals being murdered, this pic is just lols)

So I have hella free time on my hands now I'm au pairing, which for the first few weeks I spent doing my favourite thing in the entire world - absolutely fuck all. But as precious and wonderful as that is, it does actually get a bit boring after a while. So I decided to set myself some real #lifegoals. I got a pen and my glorious little shiny notepad (thanks Grace, seriously mate you killed it with those leaving gifts) and I wrote down a list of shit that I want to do and / or how frequently I want to do it. And just looking at it made me feel fulfilled and like a successful, functioning adult. I have things to work towards, I have things to look forward to. Every item on that list is something that when complete will make me feel happy, and / or like I've achieved something. Some are new skills, some are physical things I want, some are just doing things I enjoy more often. And they're all small and super easily achievable, but I know each item on the list will bring me hellllllla happy vibes.

I would never, ever even attempt to sell myself as a lifestyle guru, 99% of my life is just me totally winging it and I'm pretty much always just a gigantic hot mess, but I would highly reccomend making yourself a little list of #lifegoals. When I was in London I didn't feel like I ever had time to do anything like this because I was so depressed after work I just wanted to drink 3 bottles of wine and watch 10 episodes of friends in an attempt to distract myself from planning the murder of any of my colleagues. But there's always time. Stop putting your best life off like I did - my list took me 5 mins to compose (the doodles around the edge of the page took a bit longer) and the goals are all so achievable they'll require next to no time energy or money. Maybe one of your goals is to drink more wine - fucking power to you my queen, write that shit down on your list and immediately go and get yourself a bottle of red from the local shop. Maybe one of your goals will be moving to Ausralia. Might take a while to achieve but give it your best damn shot if that'll make you happy! Think of some stuff, big or tiny stuff, that might make your heart feel a bit more full of smiles because why the hell not.

Just to give you an idea of how tiny these goals can be - one of mine is literally to just drink more water every day. Do 5 minutes on my Spanish app every weekday. Draw some shit. Read at least one book a month. Make my Instagram less shit (sophiabailey93) if you want to follow me :D) One was to get up early and go to the beach to watch the sunrise. How's THAT for a life goal?! Some are bigger, but start small, then it doesn't seem remotely daunting and you still get a feeling of satisfaction when you've reached a goal you set for yourself. 

I read something recently that said 'be the kind of person you want to fall in love with'. I don't know, it sounded kind of dramatic and over the top to me at first but it kind of makes sense. When I'm on the husband hunt, I want to fall in love with someone kind and talented. And I'm trying to be kinder, and I'm trying to discover my talents. I don't want to fall in love with a lazy, angry, talentless, binge eating and drinking lunatic like I was a few months ago thank you. And you definitely attract like minded people, so this be the person you want to fall in love with theory is kind of spot on really. Plus loving yourself is SUPER important so if it helps you like yourself more than that can only be a good thing.

I'm not pretending I have my shit together. I do not. I mistook the doorbell at my host families house for a light switch last week and woke the whole family up at 4am. I'm still a hot mess. But at least I'm now a hot mess with a few goals. Maybe I'll never cross all the goals off my list, but who cares. That's no ones business but mine - and like I said just writing the list made me feel better. 

So if you feel remotely inspired or at all inclined, I invite you too to but yourself a pretty notepad and a cute pen, and write yourself down a few things to work towards, weather it's two things or two hundered, I guarantee when they're out of your brain and into that paper you'll feel a little more warm and fuzzy inside. (Also let me know what your goals are cos in nosy and only have like 7 for myself)

Happy adulting freeeendz x

Bailey Does Barcelona - Travel Blogs

Seventeen days ago I got on a plane with a one way ticket to Barcelona, with a severely twisted ankle, 2 bags of my belongings and just enough money in my pocket to get by. I quit the job that made me lose the will to live every day and moved out of the house I'd lived in with my best friend (and also a couple of total morons) for the last year. I moved away from all the people I love to come and live in a house with a family of strangers who's first language isn't the same as mine, in a country where they drive on the other side of the road and being vegan is an alien concept. It seemed like a huge deal and everyone kept telling me how brave I was and they 'wish they could do something like that'. 

I thought it was a big deal. Countless times I asked myself 'what am I doing' and suddenly the life in London I had been so complacent about didn't seem so bad at all. 'Maybe I shouldn't go' I kept thinking, 'what if something happens to one of my friends or a member of my family and I can't get home in time to say goodbye?'. I cried when I said goodbye to my mum and my sister and my friends (with the exception of my GBF who I just had an argument with instead, but it we wouldn't have been us if that didn't happen (sorry Adam love you) and my group of besties who I just got so fucking wasted with the night before I left I was too drunk to even feel emotion when I said goodbye). I worried about all the nights I would miss out on while I was gone, all the fun they'd have without me. All the memories I won't get to make with them. I wondered if we would drift apart, If our bonds wouldn't be as strong when I got back. And then I got here. I got picked up from the train station by my host Mum, with my two bags on my crutches, got into the car and arrived at my new house for the next few months. 

And it's not a big deal at all. 

I think it's probably the same for everyone who leaves their home town or home country that pretty much immediately you gain a huge amount of perspective. You build all this stuff up in your mind, the what ifs, the maybes, the reasons why maybe you shouldn't do it and why maybe it's a bad decision and it seems like this huge deal, it seems scary and daunting and then you arrive and you're like 'oh. It's not a big deal at all'. You just sort of... get on with it. 

The first thing I've gained perspective on, is how fucking dramatic I am. Even reading back what I just wrote - I'm such a bloody drama queen. I'm two hours away from home. Some of my besties in London are from Australia, they're 22-30 hours away from home. And a last minute flight would cost them thousands should there be an emergency. I met an 18 year old girl here who's from Texas. She's moved here alone at 18, and she's 16+ hours away from home. And I'm pretty sure she didn't make as much of a song and dance about it as 23 year old me who could get home by fucking train if I had to. 

I'm an au pair here, which was a shocking choice of career to those who know me as 'Two Beers Bailey'  the girl who loves to get wasted on a Tuesday night and spent Wednesday morning with my head in the toilet at work after turning up 30 minutes late. And I'm pretty chuffed with my decision, the first two weeks were a breeze, playing with the kids, sunbathing, listening to them speak Spanish and hoping just sitting and watching them will be enough to pick it up (it won't, my Spanish is absolutely fucking abysmal). Easy, I thought! 

Nope. 

Kids aren't easy. Kids are stubborn. Kids don't like trying new food. (Which hurts when you spend an hour cooking lunch and they strut in from school pinching their nose at the smell and refuse to even try it) Kids don't like to do what you ask them. Kids might not like YOU. It's not easy. And that's awesome, because easy doesn't teach you anything. I am stubborn as hell. And when my kids are stubborn I recognise that quality in myself, and being on the receiving end of stubbornness is an eye opener. I would like to publicly apologise to any of my old bosses who might be reading this (Tom) - I am so sorry I was such a stubborn bitch with such a filthy attitude (when I was hungover (so quite frequently)) I realise now you must have wanted to strangle me. I am also sorry to my mum and any other adults who I wouldn't listen to when I was a kid. God bless you for your patience. 

And as well as helping you recognise qualities in yourself, it teaches you new skills, like patience. Staying calm when you'd usually flip. You can't be mad at kids, they're kids. They don't understand things from other people's perspectives yet, that's not their fault. And being able to be one of the people who helps them learn to see things from someone else's perspective is such a magical awesome gift. And having them teach me not to be a furious bitch from hell who has a fuse the length of a candle wick is such an awesome magical gift too. 

When I was in London, working in a pub or a restaurant or my office jobs, and someone foreign would come in and just stand and stare blankly at me it used to really wind me up. Dong get me wrong - I love how multicultural London is, I wanted to stay in the EU, I thought we should have refugees and immigrants in the country, but when I was busy and someone came in to my place of work expecting something and they hadn't had the courtesy to learn how to ask for it in the language of the country they were in it would just irritate me. NOW I AM THAT FOREIGNER. Never again will I get angry at those people, languages are fucking hard. And being in a new country unable to communicate effectively with people is scary and lonely sometimes. It's taught me to be kinder and more accepting. 

And speaking of loneliness, I was terrified about how lonely I might be when I got here without the comfort of knowing my friends were 5 minutes away on the bus, if I needed an emergency meeting to moan about the latest fuckboy who wasn't replying to my texts, or I wanted a hug because I'm a needy bitch. And the first two weeks I wasn't lonely at all, I cherished my alone time. Finished the first book I've read in years (thanks Grace - absolutely spectacular leaving gift!) Got the first tan I've had in 23 years and learned how to say 'I've got a knife' in Spanish on duolingo. Heaven! 

But then the loneliness did set in very mildly as the third week is starting to approach. And that pushed me to do something about it. I reached out to a bunch of people, some other au pairs, some vegans in the city, and now I have a weekend coming up full of plans, with people from all over the world, all of different ages and walks of life. And I'm super excited to see what awesome things they'll all teach me (while I'm pissed on the streets of Barcelona at a massive street party - hell yeah). 

It's so early on in my journey and I'm already learning so much. On the surface I've just been eating, sleeping and sitting in the sun. But when I scratch the surface I can see I've done so much more than that (amazing what a bit of alone time with your thoughts can do. Although don't spend too much alone time with your thoughts if you're anything like me - it gets weird in there). I have this fear that putting my experiences out there in this manner will mean that if it all goes tits up and I have to come home it will be all the more embarrassing because I've made this experience so public. But - thanks to the book I've just read 'The Life Changing Magic Of Not Giving A Fuck' (thanks again Grace) I thought - fuck it. If one person reads this and feels remotely inspired to quit the job they hate and do something fun then it will have been worth writing. And if this country or this experience doesn't work out for me long term, so what. I'll always be able to say I tried, and I've been happier in these two and a bit weeks with less money than I've had in years, than I was for months in my old job and my old life in London.

I urge you, if you're considering making a change in your life, no matter how small or how enormous, just do it. I know you've heard this a million times from a million sources, but just do it. If you're unhappy now you have nothing to lose. And it may seem difficult, and you'll probably build up a load of reasons in your mind why you can't do it. But if an unorganised, irresponsible idiot like me can do it, I assure you you definitely can. Turn off the 'what if' bit of your brain for one second and visualise how amazing that new job, new relationship, new city or new county could be and how much better your life could potentially be. Just give it a go. For me. Plz.

Happy adulting y'all X