I have realised something unenviable about myself. I realised that without structure to my work, without deadlines or a boss to report to, I let things slide. I commit myself to things and when it comes to it, don't want to finish them. Like that half-finished piece of embroidery lying optimistically in my living room. Like that presentation I was going to edit. But on the other hand, I have not been very behindhand on my work with Friends of Children, partly because it's something I really want to do, and partly because my friend Vani (whom the Guy, not without reason, refers to as my "boss") reminds me if I miss something.
In other news, the Guy caught a bad cold and generously passed it on to me. He coughs, I sneeze. He comes home early from work because the AC makes him feel ill; I wake up umpteen times at night because I can't breathe well through my nose.
The weather has been behaving erratically too. First it was sunny, with a nippy breeze. Today the sun has disappeared, the sky is covered with clouds, and it's been drizzling. It looks lovely and romantic: I wish I was feeling better and could actually enjoy it.
But at least I can look out of my window at the grim grey sky and see the raindrops fall. It makes me glad we don't live right in the city, even though I often crib about how far we are from everything and how I have to walk up to the main road to get a rickshaw. I am glad the Guy set up our spare bedroom for me to use, so that I can look up from my desk and look at the world outside.
But the GuyDad is coming this weekend, and I will have to relinquish my office (after I put all the mess into some semblance of order). I am afraid I'll be even less tempted to work then. The GuyDad is the least fussy of houseguests, though, so that should be the extent of my complaint.
There you go, a post at last. I can't think of anything more to say. Maybe I'll try again in a day or two.