"Drama Minggu Ini"

I’m holed up at home because today I am a danger to myself.

I went out this morning to start my day and promptly locked myself out of my house and effectively trapped myself at my entrance foyer as the front grill was locked too. To cut a long story short, I made many calls, made many people laugh heartily and finally got rescued by the locksmith who tactfully asked if the wind slammed the door shut behind me. Subsequently I’ve been absent-minded the rest of the day, doing things many times over, forgetting this and that and don’t even get me started on my driving. All this because my mind has been busy running over the ‘exciting’ events and being occupied chastising my own self for being so silly.

So while I had my weekend schedule all planned out, I’ve decided I shouldn’t drive or operate heavy machinery for the time being or else death would be an imminent threat.

Listen and you shall hear

When you’ve been a listener for the longest time, then finally find someone you can talk to, do you forget the art of listening?

The art of reading between the lines of a summarized sentence from one who is practiced in brevity. The art of recognizing pregnant sentences cloaked in simplicity and supposed straightforwardness. The art of holding your peace and not goading on an ineloquent speaker. The art of knowing not to interrupt a silence because it is necessary in the formation of the next sentence, even if that comes after and extended period. The art of reading nuances like hesitant pauses and changes in inflection.

Listening is something that needs to be practiced if it doesn’t come naturally, but my question is this: Do you forget how to do it once you’ve found your voice?

A place to call home

So we’ve finally moved in after weeks of tiring painting, cleaning, furnishing (we put together our own furniture!) and packing. Our place still has quite a way to go before we can sit down, relax and enjoy it, but for now it’s functioning amply.

As I told him, I’m still waiting to feel happy at the culmination of what I had wished for, for the longest time. It hasn’t arrived yet and maybe it’s due to the stress of planning for a life together. It’s far from easy and strips the idealistic romance out of the proceedings when endless important decisions need to be made with a consensus between two individualistic people. Compromise for us is a full time occupation.

And so I wait, a little impatiently, to crack open a bottle of wine, snuggle with my love and just let everything drift away. That, to me, would be coming home.

Holidays are so much better spent with company isn't it?

Was just telling a friend who's miles away how nice it would be if she were here and we could go have a leisurely breakfast at some cafe as we plan our shopping itinerary for the day.

But here I am, alone on a holiday, pouting just a little, reluctant to start the day eventough I've got tons to accomplish before the day ends.

Oh well.

And I didn't even sleep in! Where's the justice in that?