I had sex after a very long time. It was so much better than I remembered it. On the downside, no condom, so like, a wee bit worried.
the best part of days so far, ma and F are here. I am so happy, so relieved, to go to bed beside them every night, to find them when I come back home, to see them when I come back from office, to wake up with them. It seems I was getting by like a zombie so far.
And being this way is like, everything I had not meant to be. I mean, how chhaposha I am, to not be able to exist without home, city, boyfriend. In my delirium of relief, I often think I would be happy to give up everything, come home to Calcutta, marry my boyfriend and live with him. Maybe like everything else, this is me coming to what everyone else feels, like, from infancy.
Bad English is my birthright
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
I am home. I am having a bad turn at work. A rather bad one. I feel human after a very long time. And it feels stupid to stay away from here. I have no idea what I will do with my career, but what my present job demands to succeed, I don't think I am up for. I don't want to leave, I want to be able to crack this and then quit, to show myself that I could do this.
And I feel happy here. I like the weather, I like how laid-back it is, I like spotting things on the road that I can keep looking at, that don't make you want to turn your eyes away and shut your ears.
I don't know if this is the influence of my boyfriend, or the nature of the job, or whether I am getting old. I hate change, now as always. But I never expected to be stuck at a dead end in my profession twice in such a short time, I never thought I could not do something, or maybe I am just not putting myself out there because I don't care enough, and that I never did care to excel.
I have often thought of quitting work altogether, something that I would have thought blasphemous earlier. Work was identity, I was always made to understand, subliminally. It let you live, without it, you would be swatted away off this earth.
But work, as I have experienced it of late, holds no allure for me at all. I keep thinking there must be other aspects of my profession that are not as unsavoury, that are easier. Or maybe something is wrong with me, I am not smart enough to crack it. I may sub decently, but I can't come up with ideas at the drop of a hat.
And I feel happy here. I like the weather, I like how laid-back it is, I like spotting things on the road that I can keep looking at, that don't make you want to turn your eyes away and shut your ears.
I don't know if this is the influence of my boyfriend, or the nature of the job, or whether I am getting old. I hate change, now as always. But I never expected to be stuck at a dead end in my profession twice in such a short time, I never thought I could not do something, or maybe I am just not putting myself out there because I don't care enough, and that I never did care to excel.
I have often thought of quitting work altogether, something that I would have thought blasphemous earlier. Work was identity, I was always made to understand, subliminally. It let you live, without it, you would be swatted away off this earth.
But work, as I have experienced it of late, holds no allure for me at all. I keep thinking there must be other aspects of my profession that are not as unsavoury, that are easier. Or maybe something is wrong with me, I am not smart enough to crack it. I may sub decently, but I can't come up with ideas at the drop of a hat.
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