13th January 2009
There are times when I just can’t comprehend how the body keeps going. All I want to do is crawl into a hole somewhere, any where, possibly even a hole filled with roaches and mice, just to get some peace and escape from the world at large. To be able to stop thinking. Feeling. Doing. Hibernation is sounding pretty damn appealing right this second. I’m sure there’s a leaky tap in my system at the moment and all of my energy is slowly but surely seeping through it.
And why are we so damn polite? Is it like an inbuilt self destruct thing? Honest to God, even when I’m feeling like a walking zombie I still feel obliged to attend a party this evening because I was invited. When the invitation came it was all I could do not to look like a deflated balloon; my vision of an early night alone, hot tea, cuddling the cat, eating chocolate and reading a book was viciously popped. Destroyed. Blown up in a squeaky helium ball of flames. Damn it. I reckon you are possibly thinking two thoughts about now; a) that I am sad and about 80 years old wanting an early night with a cat, and b) why not just say no! I can’t say no. Ok, ok yes I could, but it would be extremely rude to turn down an invitation from the organisation I’m working in – very bad in Khmer culture. I have to work here, I’m meant to be building relationships, this is what it’s all about…….but oh, I can literally hear my bed calling me… it’s a warm, soft and very temping voice, promising a comfortable night with sweet dreams….
The silver lining (for there always is one if you look hard enough) is that Khmer parties rarely last long. I may get an earlyish night after all…
