August 19, 2009
I've been ordered to update my blog. Which is flattering really. Atleast I know someone(s) out there care about what I'm saying. Or maybe there are a lot of bored people out there who entertain themselves this way. For what is blogging but a written exchange between emotional exhibitionists and voyeurs? Or maybe I'm being caustic because I'm too tired to be anything else. And tired I am. I have too much to do, and not enough time to do it. I have zilch time to look up apartments (or anything else really) which is a pity because I'll never manage to establish a routine until I do. At the moment I'm swamped between work-done-but-not-documented, work-to-be-completed and work-to-come. It doesn't help that my office is in Barakaho (Islamabad's equivalent of the boondocks) and we're dependent on an internet service provider who has close connections to Lucifer. I say that because just when you need him, he conks off, only to come on again just when you're complaining about how awful it is and about how you just CANNOT work this way. What happens then is that you come off as spoiled pampered princess who must-have-all-possible-amenities-in-order-to-survive and evil-boss ticks you off. Which is annoying to say the least. Aside from the internet-tussle work is lovely, but I'm beginning to see what Batman was on about when he kept saying how with a-better-than-decent salary comes hellishly-long-working hours. Or wait, was he blathering on about power and responsibility? I forget. Maybe it'll come back to me in a deja-vu moment. Wierdly enough I'm getting constant deja-vu moments. It's beginning to creep me out a little. Not that I mind being connected to the cosmic whole, but there is a limit to everything, I say. (Dear diety, please note. thank you). I also realize I should publicly apologize to Deepak for being bitchy. I have no idea why the word 'pity' sets me off on a tangent. Maybe because so many people felt like pitying me once-upon-a-time when my life fell apart. But I shall apologize when I'm not exhausted enough to fall asleep while I type. Incidentally, I have a dinner meeting in fifteen minutes. The work-day officially ends for me at around 11:00 and begins again at 8:00am tomorrow. This is fucking-insane. I am fucking-insane. What-the-fuck-was-I-thinking?! I should just get married and have several beautiful progeny. Prospective hubby should also be swimming in money (well, wading in it at any rate) so that I can lie abed in the mornings and have chai in bed while someone else looks after beautiful progeny. And instead of saving the world one intervention at a time perhaps I can do some charity. Between trips to the beauty parlor ofcourse. Speaking of which I desperately, desperately need a manicure. Any suggestions?