Eureka!

With hindsight, it's so obvious. Why didn't I see it coming? Why did it take me this long to get to this moment?

Some people believe in love at first sight and dive straight in. And it works. Others are great friends for years before they realise the love of their life has been next to them all along. I don't think it matters how you get there. As long as you get there.

Last night, a moment similar to this happened to me. Martín and I went to the pub for a drink and talked about the new class I had started teaching that day. As the conversation went on, it was clear to both of us what should happen. It's not just that I love teaching. I am also really good at it. It always happens. I leave my classes with a spring in my step and a love for what I do; for what my students are learning; for the creativity and energy I give and they give me back.

When we moved to London in July 2010 from Buenos Aires, it would be an understatement to say I was a little sad. I loved my life, my job and my friends in Argentina. The most difficult thing that I knew I would have to change was my job. How would I be able to have the life of an English teacher I had there here in London? I didn't see it.

So I did something else. Something else I became good at. And I liked it. I didn't love it, but I learnt a lot and I realised it was an option for me. And it involved writing, which is something I love. But I missed the buzz of teaching; the constant creativity; the new faces and different problems. I missed putting my own weeks together, directing my own work life.

So, EUREKA. Now I am going to do it again. I am going to drive my professional life here in London as I did in Buenos Aires. When it clicks, it clicks. I am older and I have more time, resources and patience. I have more knowledge, more experience and the guts to do it today that I didn't have before.

Understanding the lessons of life aren't always straightforward. But they are always there. And the moment the penny drops is as sweet outside the classroom as it is inside. As a teacher, I should know that.

And I do.

Happiness, happiness, the greatest thing that I possess

I loved Ken Dodd as a kid. It was even better when I started to understand his terribly dirty jokes about turkeys and women. But the song he would always sing, with diddy men prancing around and tickling sticks going everywhere, made you feel light, bouncy, without a care in the world and... happy. And you can be any age to understand that.

The other day I was working with a man connected to my old job, doing some filming for a friend. Afterwards, he was asking me about my plans now that I am unemployed and if I missed my old job. I explained how I missed those I had worked with closely, but that we are all friends and will continue to be. I told him that I did not miss the job; and that I was thinking of trying to teach more. I have always loved teaching, and although I continue with students and partners at LBS, I miss it as I used to to do it Buenos Aires.

His reply was, "But there's no money in that."

I was surprised by his reaction. I have always had respect for teachers, not just because I was brought up by two of them, but as a job goes, no matter the subject, the age, the place, there is no other feeling like giving someone the confidence of knowledge, and how to use it.

The other thing I was surprised about was how he was measuring my job choice in monetary value and little else. I'm not idealistic enough to think that the simple joy of teaching will pay my food and rent (and travels!) alone, but neither would I take ever take a job I know I am not going to enjoy just because it pays well. A job's pay, it's value for your work, is not the value you have (sometimes it's not even the value you 'earn') as a person. I don't care if I never earn loads, but I care being judged on it and I certainly care about being miserable.

Crap economy, crap job prospects, crap and high university fees, crap management, crap, crap, crap: this isn't how young people and those out of work should be thinking. This isn't New Year's thinking - it's life thinking: finding something you love to do and being happy most of the time doing it. If it makes you rich, tired, poor, stressed, fat, thin, smarter, wilder, it doesn't matter. It's your choice.

The measure should be if it makes you happy.

My reply to the man last week was in that vein: "Teaching makes me happy, though," I told him.

He frowned, shrugged and made a weird little noise. I don't think people consider their own happiness enough.