I miss grown-up conversation.
My weekdays (and some weekends) used to be filled with words like budget, deadline, proposal, new product development, presentation, client meeting, supplier. Now we talk about food, dogs, plants, builders, geothermic heating, birds, weather. It's comfortable language and none of it is challenging or mind stretching.
I have two cardboard wardrobes still unpacked from the move, full of business suits that I'm reluctant to let go. Here we wear jeans, T-shirts, sweaters. "Going out" usually means just putting on a less scruffy pair of jeans.
This transition was happening in the UK, but here it is sharper, more painful. The me that used to talk to senior managers in big companies is not quite sure what she is doing here and is feeling bereft.