I was also looking forward to the trip because the past few months had been ridiculously busy—in a good way, but I was exhausted and needed a breather. You see, when I arrived home from London, I’d leapt wholeheartedly into that bigger life I’d promised myself.

I had finally said yes to the leadership position my principal had been steering me towards and I was officially in charge of a whole year group. It came with a raise—which I immediately deposited into my travel fund—and a team of six teachers.

The woman I replaced was so relieved to hand over her acting role, I almost took it as a sign to run away. But it turned out I had a knack for handling, and hopefully inspiring, fourteen-year-olds. I loved the role and this coming year—fingers crossed—the kids would be even more manageable because they’d be fifteen-year-olds!

For my birthday in October, in the middle of a stunning Sydney spring, I’d organised a huge day out at Centennial Park with all my girlfriends and their families. I’d also invited a few of my younger, single friends from school, telling them each to bring a friend, so they’d be more likely to come.

For food we’d had a massive potluck, and I ordered a side of lamb on a spit. Thank god for Nick who commandeered the carving. “No worries, Sez. Just give me a slab of meat and a huge knife and I’m a happy man,” he’d said. Nick’s kind of weird, or maybe all men like carving cooked carcases.

Lins helped me organise games for the kids, and we’d all brought our own coolers filled with drinks. And every single person I invited came. Even my girlfriend, Jonelle, who had a shift at the hospital later that day, came for lunch before she left for work.

People who rarely saw each other reconnected, and people who didn’t know each other, met. It was one of the best days I’ve ever had in Sydney—and a reboot for all my married-friend friendships. Soon afterwards, the invites started pouring in.

I was invited to weeknight dinners, with kid chaos and bedtime stories and a sneaky glass of wine after the kids had gone to sleep. I was “Aunty Sarah” again, which I’d forgotten how much I loved. My younger friends invited me out to dinners in the city and to pubs on Sunday afternoons, even to clubs from time to time. I didn’t always accept, but when I did, I had a blast.

But the most exhilarating thing of all—and the most exhausting—was that I had two boyfriends.

Well, sort of.

Geography being the great leveller between them, I hadn’t seen Josh or James in person, but I’d carried on with them both. And by “carried on”, I mean I was in contact with each of them several times a week.

I also had plans to see them both again. Obviously, I was meeting up with Josh for New Year’s in Hawaii, like we’d talked about when we were in Greece. And James was coming to Sydney in January for a project with the Museum of Contemporary Art.