I am going to write a series of short posts about all the things I had meant to write since I meant to write so many things, then didn't.
I feel SO SO cold. Temperatures are supposed to have gone up from today, but after a bath and change of (I think) month-long home outfit, I eventually piled on the following:
a t-shirt
a woollycot shirt
a thick sweater
a padded jacket
a shawl worn like a skirt over woollycot pajamas
half-fingered gloves (because, why not, when the aim is to be completely warm)
tupi
double-layered shoe-like sockers from Nepal
C had bought these lovely double-cover gloves from Nepal, which is infernally stupid since she lived in Bangalore at the time, and is now in sweltering Singapore. I was shivering on my way back last night and thinking that they must be languishing and forgotten somewhere in her vast cupboard, if not given away without being worn. It was also stupid of me to not have bought a pair since I could have made good use of them, but I wasn't into gloves then.
I went to Sri Lanka. My travel companions were quite a duo. I don't plan to travel with them again, though half a country away, I am happy to be friends and exchange pleasantries.
I am growing embittered with how things have fallen/are falling into place with most of my friends while I stay stuck and get ever more mired in my life which I don't want. Though if I weren't so discontent with the bits I don't like, I would see that it's purposeful and challenging, which I really need, because I am not really self-motivated. Also, my self is untarnished by compromise which always make me treat myself badly.
Two of my authors have fallen through this week. I am struggling to come out of a half-year haze. Things are becoming like at my last place of work, and it's hard to care. I recently went on a work trip and laughed and said mad things like I don't have the chance to do much of anymore. Perhaps it's because the person I was with is new to the company, and is not a little mad herself.
I am actually very scared about the work situation.
Ma's pressure, we found at the cardiologist's, yesterday, was 190/90. He increased her medicines and said it would come down, and maybe it's the cold. Also said the way to check the condition of the heart and arteries was to do a stress echo once in every two years. He also pooh-poohed me down when I asked about testing microalbumin. The treatment won't change, he stated, while staring at me like I'd asked him to eat a horse.
I now pray like I used to before, for help, for her health, for my work. I have broken and have no room for that anger for F anymore.
Office has so many people. So many that one has to speak to and deal with, who annoy you, bore you, whose speech is like white noise but who have made themselves important.
I feel SO SO cold. Temperatures are supposed to have gone up from today, but after a bath and change of (I think) month-long home outfit, I eventually piled on the following:
a t-shirt
a woollycot shirt
a thick sweater
a padded jacket
a shawl worn like a skirt over woollycot pajamas
half-fingered gloves (because, why not, when the aim is to be completely warm)
tupi
double-layered shoe-like sockers from Nepal
C had bought these lovely double-cover gloves from Nepal, which is infernally stupid since she lived in Bangalore at the time, and is now in sweltering Singapore. I was shivering on my way back last night and thinking that they must be languishing and forgotten somewhere in her vast cupboard, if not given away without being worn. It was also stupid of me to not have bought a pair since I could have made good use of them, but I wasn't into gloves then.
I went to Sri Lanka. My travel companions were quite a duo. I don't plan to travel with them again, though half a country away, I am happy to be friends and exchange pleasantries.
I am growing embittered with how things have fallen/are falling into place with most of my friends while I stay stuck and get ever more mired in my life which I don't want. Though if I weren't so discontent with the bits I don't like, I would see that it's purposeful and challenging, which I really need, because I am not really self-motivated. Also, my self is untarnished by compromise which always make me treat myself badly.
Two of my authors have fallen through this week. I am struggling to come out of a half-year haze. Things are becoming like at my last place of work, and it's hard to care. I recently went on a work trip and laughed and said mad things like I don't have the chance to do much of anymore. Perhaps it's because the person I was with is new to the company, and is not a little mad herself.
I am actually very scared about the work situation.
Ma's pressure, we found at the cardiologist's, yesterday, was 190/90. He increased her medicines and said it would come down, and maybe it's the cold. Also said the way to check the condition of the heart and arteries was to do a stress echo once in every two years. He also pooh-poohed me down when I asked about testing microalbumin. The treatment won't change, he stated, while staring at me like I'd asked him to eat a horse.
I now pray like I used to before, for help, for her health, for my work. I have broken and have no room for that anger for F anymore.
Office has so many people. So many that one has to speak to and deal with, who annoy you, bore you, whose speech is like white noise but who have made themselves important.
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