I fumble when people ask me where’s home.
I’m never really sure what they mean when they say Home. Is home where my family is? Is home where I spent my childhood? Where I laughed and cried and expanded my world? Where I learnt the joys of being loved or the piercing wounds of loss?
As a kid who grew up in a couple of different countries, you learn a few important things. the first of which is nothing lasts forever. Everyone eventually learns that. But when you grow up in a world where the culture outside of the house is quite different from the inside, you learn that life is fluid, and constantly moving. What’s even more interesting, is how you unconsciously adapt your behavior to your surroundings. You take a step back and look at it from the outside, that’s when you realise you did have an advantage. You learnt to adapt early.
But I digress. Home. For me, that’s where I feel safe. Where I can be accepted for who and what I am, without any expectations or condition. Still working on getting there but you can always create a little bit of home where ever you go.
Not quite sure where I was going with this post
I’ve been telling myself I need to write for a while now. Well, two weeks ago to be precise, when I finished reading this amazing book that I told myself I should blog about. And a few more things that i thought would be good to get down on paper. And I did…get it down on paper that is.
So when a friend annoyed me enough to get me up and blogging, the only thing I could think of was Procrastination. That’s what I’ve been doing. I used a weekend trip and a few guests as excuses not to write today. But the guests have left and i have no one to talk to, and I now return to my ong shunned love. The blog.
A crude analysis of why I procrastinate follows.
I’m lazy. I’m a dreamer, a big one. In my head are illusions of my grandiose future accomplishments, which given my continuing lazy streak, ain’t gonna get me no where. I just used a double negative. shows how bad my writing has gotten. I could maybe use that as a teeny prod to get this act together.
Maybe next time not listen to Justin Bieber while writing? Though if Ed Sheeran was the lyricist, does that make it Ed’s song or Justin’s?
Things achieved this week- the house got a good cleaning.
Things that did not happen- The christmas tree did not go up.
I may have a problem with procrastination.
Is anyone even reading this? 250 words of rambling.
So why do people love using that metaphor? Are we talking about what’s really round the bend? Like the shop round the corner. Or going into the bend, i.e JUMP!!! End of story.
There’s this real Sarky Devil at work. And he just happens to be the boss. Not akin to the real Sarky Devil,( thank heavens!) but Sarky none the less. the amusing bit of course being how this is India, only a teenth (yes, teenth) of the population get it. which makes the drab work place a wee bit colorful.
Today for instance, on bidding some poor slob adieu, he proudly proclaimed how the team had gathered some “shekels” to get him a gift (well, gift voucher actually).
When life gives you lemonade, make lemons. Life will be all like WHAAT!! – Phil Dunphy
I’m the person sitting next to you on the bus, the one you pass by on the street, the one you know, and yet don’t know. The calm, ordinary, practical person who makes logical decisions, and chooses a logical job that pays the logical sum you need to survive. But this blog is about the illogical life that everyone wants, the quirky thoughts and mindless ideas. Wonkaland, if that makes sense, but then it doesn’t need to. Here I get to be the eccentric who’s no longer shackled by logic. Because imagination has no limits.