Culture shock is like PMS

Culture shock is like PMS. really. If you have never had PMS let me explain. Many of the simptoms are similar. 


Overwhelming sadness for no reason

crying over stupid little things



fighting with family, friends, partners

general ill at ease

Nothing seems to be right. The world is off kilter. ugh! disaster.


I got this idea as I was exploring the things that were frustrating me. I was once again laying down with the little monster, who was grouchy, fighting sleep, and sucking down milk like a frat boy chugs a beer. The washing machine was making thunderous noise through the closed bathroom door daring to fully wake the nearly sleeping child.

Thousands of things on my mental “To Do” list spiraling through my thoughts as the Christmas deadline looms. There is a Christmas video that needs work. Ornaments that “Need” to be made. Trips to town for various things and a constant nagging baby that is thrown in just to make things a bit more challenging. Fully knowing that I will have to put that all on hold to drape the laundry over the radiators befor anthing else gets done… and yet what do I do? I stop and write this blog. Shooting myself in the foot, by stopping to blog, having a personal pity party and a a bit of psycho-therapy all at once.

Always causing more of a strain on my life now is the Language. There is the language barrier continuously complicates things further. Making a simple trip to the store or post office into a stressful necessity. The language itself is probably the most exhausting factor.

Language is also a factor in dealing with relatives. A mother-in-law, in particular who is nothing but sweet, kind and understanding, but annoys the H- E- Double toothpicks out of me. Listening to an endless string of incomprehensible words that are always louder than necessary. A megaphone has nothing on her. Sometimes I feel like I am at a stopped at railroad intersection that holds the longest train of Words ever. Without the fun of counting the cars.

There are also household difficulties. I am so pleased we do not live with the in-laws as many locals do, but this time, mama has stayed with us almost enough to make it seem as though we are living with her.
Our home here is decidedly Serbian.

Things I have gotten used to include but are just the tip of the iceberg are: Tuning the bathroom light on before entering, taking shoes of at the door, wearing slippers around the house constantly, and having 7 course dinners every night are the kind of differences I am referring too.

I may be making this a regular post or… it’s very own Blog. It really has nothing to do with Serbia. Just with living internationally and the hardships involved. Whether you are living outside your home country or have done so previously, you will be able to relate!


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