-Time out-


Walking in the heat of a tropical summer, wearing a black suit and closed-toe shoes with my hair loose, was probably not the best way to start the day. Every other girl passing by in their flouncy skirts and sandals with their glossy, straight hair were (unbeknownst to them) subjected to the dagger-eyed glare that I reserve for these occasions.

The problem with starting the day like this (even if the sky is unbelievably clear and dazzingly blue outside) is that I get emotional from the beginning. With every step I took towards the office I was wondering about life et cetera. Why do I live here when I can't get used to my allergic reaction to mosquito bites, the ferocious air-conditioning, the panic about SARS and the 'vegetarian' food cooked in pig fat? When I burn to a crisp (a red one) if I stand outside for more than fifteen minutes? When I fight with taxi drivers to get to work everyday? When I have to spend so much time at work? When I really, really can't stand flying half-way around the world just to see M., close friends and family? I must be mad, I thought, almost in tears. In the lift going up to the fiftieth floor to my office I was plotting my escape from it all. By the time I reached my desk and saw the pile of documents for review, I was ready to become a bagel baker, a sewing lady, a nursery school teacher, anything but what I already am.

Then I looked at my diary and saw the first entry for the day - "Fly out to London, Midnight flight". I'd written that in when I was still in London in April. I thought of the old man I'd seen on my way in - he was silently standing in the middle of the busy street with a small container in his outstretched hand and a doleful look. I thought, I guess I'm being disgracefully childish about my work. I read the entry in the diary again and remembered how worried I'd been that I wouldn't be able to go back even as I had been writing it down. And I thought, I guess I'm being incredibly ungrateful for the fact that I am flying out tonight.

So I'm going to work very hard all day, as you do when you have so much to plough through. I will buy presents and collect my dress for the wedding on Sunday. I will tidy up my newly furnished flat. After that, I'll be swanning around the airport, going almost half-crazy with excitement and delight at the thought of being in London again until the beginning of June. I feel renewed energy just thinking about it.