Blogging doesn't seem to cross my mind nowadays. Which universally happens only when one's life has become rapturously more interesting. Unfortunately, that's not the case. I'm back at work, so therefore more of a mentally and emotionally calcified remnant of the Murphy I was. But my life has not improved in any way possible. The only answer is that I've become less whiny. Yay me!

I'm going to be traveling again in about two weeks time. And as is typical with life at my firm, it will be for a minimum of a month. I was quite exasperated when I found out about it, being a little sick of the travel. But parts of me are totally ready to pack my shit up and go. Traveling has become the metaphor for my discontent. I always always always want to be in Delhi. But being here is living with the general confusion that is rapidly becoming synonymous with Delhi. I feel uber lame saying it, especially since it's for the millionth time on this blog, but I still have no idea what exactly it is I want. Different people have come to represent different universes of potential and it's all as wrong as it is right.
Murphy is a pussy.
However, I remain happy and besotted with my feline clan. My one hope for my life is to be a person my cats are not embarrassed of.

Moving on. Go to this fine gentleman and ask him to make us some new music. He doesn't seem to realise how his music nourishes one and helps with all the seriously sucky missing some of us have to do.
The reason behind this dodgy post is mostly the fact that I just washed my hair and needed to wait for it to dry, so that I may go to sleep and not wake up with hair that refuses to look like it belongs in the same building as anyone with an accounting qualification. Which is not a bad thing, but unfortunately a necessity in my line of work.
Which reminds me of my other hope for my life, to be a gardener type person. To have a fantastic green thumb and to have masses of fruits and vegetables and plants flourish obscenely under my care. Needless to say I'm doing a shit job of focusing on the relevant.
Yeah, like I was saying, good bye.

Rustomji Palonji.

Bye, Rusty.

Part of me wants to continue communicating with this blog only using cats.
But I won't.
It's a further step in my continuing saga of resisting beneficial impulses which I ought to heed.
I think I'll be going back to work tomorrow. My body is strongly resisting this by playing host to the flu. The problem with work is that it requires too much preparation. I'll have to fix my body and do something about all the issues I've let slide, claiming to be too ill to wax. I'll have to actually think about work and the people there and maintain a coherent thought for more than three minutes. I don't think I'm up to it, I don't feel ready. It seems that I have been reprogrammed by my three week long sabbatical.



Okay, so it makes me feel better.