As befits expat life, talk has come up of our next posting. It is unlikely to be before Summer 2009, but the decision has to be made sometime soonish.

Mr S wants to be near France, not necessarily in it, but within easy reach. I have no idea where I want to be. It doesn’t matter what the suggestion is (other than mine of Thailand - great food, nice people, fantastic diving - which is not going to happen) my heart starts racing and my mind moves into sheer panic.

I know some people who are leaving Egypt in a few weeks after one year here because life has been too difficult. Harassment of a teenage daughter is one reason, as is growing unease about the future and the millions of little things that go wrong every day and wear you out.

I understand. I really do.

But that’s not me.

Although I look forward to living somewhere else, I absolutely cannot imagine living anywhere but here. On top of that, I wonder if life in Europe would be so easy that I get bored. I mean after seven years here I simply cannot imagine what on earth would it be like to have my mind freed up from the trivialities that occupy it here. Thinking about what to wear when I go out so as not to offend people, not needing to remember to tug my t-shirt down as I get in or out of the car so I don’t expose my ‘indecent’ lower back for mere seconds, being able to find exactly the ingredients I need to make the dish I plan to make and not having poverty staring me so hard in the face every day.

The bottom line is, that for the first time in my life, I am actually scared about where we’ll go. I know I’ll be fine, logic dictates that if I can make myself happy in Egypt (which certainly wasn’t easy) I can make myself happy in most places.

But my goodness, for some reason, I’m petrified.