One of the reasons why I started blogging was the need to get away from everything that was happening in my life - the break-up, the resultant loss of a best friend, the loneliness - and I did that by writing humorously about inconsequential things in my doped-up, hazy life.
One of the reasons I have stopped blogging is because now I can tackle whatever is happening in my life by talking about it with DD, instead of pretending it isn't happening and lighting a cigarette. [Gosh, cigarettes. I'm going to miss you. Downside of living with a sensible man. Pah.]
In about 45 hours I'll be at the airport, contending with a knot in my throat, and an obsessive-compulsive propensity to blink.
It's hardest dealing with the faces. So I'm trying to think of mishaps. Like my suitcase crashing itself open and pet bottles of home-made gorom moshla raining on customs officers. Or being held back at Singapore for carrying a suspiciously large quantity of underwear. Or being punished by God for placing my Toulouse-Lautrec print over a packet of shoes.
Which reminds me: thanks be to my friends for giving me thoughtful and fabulous gifts, all of which I am taking with me!
When I'm in pain [waxing, stitches, rage], I keep muttering to myself, "Think about childbirth. This is easier. This is a breeze. Think about waiting to dilate to 10cm." Possible factual inaccuracies regarding childbirth aside, it works. I can steel myself. Not working now, though.
Is anybody praying?