My life has undergone a huge overhaul in the last four months. When I think about the first half of 2012, it almost makes me shudder: I wasn’t happy with my job, was barely sleeping, had a badly battered outlook on my life in Spain.

Whatever isn’t broken shouldn’t be fixed, but when something is so, so badly broken (namely, my confidence in myself and my love affair with Seville), the major overhaul is necessary.

So, I quit my job. In this economy? Being a tenured teacher? You must be crazy, Cat! they all said, but in the end, I was the one with enough guts to do it. I walked out on my last day and didn’t feel any effect, just crazy relief. Camp followed, then a five-week trip home to give me some perspective while I enjoyed central air and a new pup at home.

Since coming back to Iberia two months ago, I’ve started a new job, a master’s in PR, redesigned my blog (which is a longer process than I thought), bought a MacBook Air and have started enjoying, actually savoring, Seville again.

One benefit of working in the afternoon is being able to enjoy the quiet hours in Seville, when the sun paints the city center golden, before Constitución fills with people. I’ve often staked out breakfast spots by less conventional terms, like the way the sunlight spills over the outdoor tables or by quirky decor. But, sitting right in front of the Giralda with a menu boasting poorly translated English, German and French (I’m assuming) was this character.

One of the most lovely feelings of living in Seville is the sense of being transported back to another era. As I listened to the horse carriages behind me and the whirr of a coffee machine, I watched him scribble notes in a small, leather-bound book while sipping a bloody mary.

Let’s face it: I love a man who isn’t afraid to have a drink before noon.