In other words, as I told the Guy, I feel like a really tired superhero*.
I wake up at 7.30 feeling tired and wanting to go back to sleep. I am out of the door a few minutes past nine, having had breakfast and carrying my lunch and sometimes even dinner. (okay, full disclosure - lunch and dinner's usually the same thing, only double portions. Even fuller - I sometimes get help from my domestic help - but only sometimes.) I catch an auto to my bus stop. The office bus picks me up at 9.40. I reach office at eleven. (Yes, it's 30 kilometres away. And yes, I've considered driving and decided I'm not driving over an hour through traffic and bad roads with my indifferent-at-best driving skills.)
On the way, I see a woman dressed nicely and appropriately for work - white shirt, black trousers, chunky black heels, long straight hair all in place, eyes lined in black - and imagine what a frump I must look. Old burnt orange kurta my mom made me, old comfy red salwar (seriously, why don't I pair something better with the kurta, like a gray salwar or an olive green churidar to match the green in the pattern - yeah right, I'd never even noticed before that there was olive green in the kurta, let alone bother to hunt for something matching), black thong sandals that are as comfortable as running shoes (actually more, in this heat - seriously, I love Mochi), a black and orange stole wrapped around my head and slung across my shoulders to protect my hair from dust so it's not a complete mess by the time I reach office, glasses, no make up, and my face greasy from sunscreen. When the Guy was here, I'd made more of an effort, because he often got breakfast and lunch ready while I got myself ready! (And yes, he left early this week and no, we are not talking about that here because I hope ignoring it will make it less true. Yeah, I have a real healthy way of dealing with unpleasant facts.)
So I get home at 10:30 and I'm tired all the time and the Guy and I have barely been talking because at night we're both like yeah, I miss you too, and I'm really sleepy, let's talk tomorrow? And my house is in a mess and I have about five loads of laundry waiting for when I have time and water and energy (both the physical and electrical kinds) at the same time. And I make up whole blog posts in my head during my morning rickshaw ride and have no time to write them down so I'm spending my bus ride writing this down today on my fancy new phone - that's how much I've missed you all. (Oh yeah, the Guy insisted I buy the E72 to replace my malfunctioning N70. It's cool.)
But if everything in my life sucked, I'd pack my bags and hop on a flight to Hyderabad and sit in the Guy's hotel room bed all day with my laptop on my lap. But I won't.
You know what's awesome? My job. And you know what's even more awesome? My boss. And those kinds of awesome give you the kind of high that can't be matched. (Okay, I've never tried dope, but I'm pretty sure it can't match up. This is definitely better than caffeine or alcohol or even cigarettes, which are my favourite form of high. Oooh, the high from a cigarette. Yeah, I know they kill you, which is why I have about one in six months. Probably less now that my smoking-buddies seem to have gone away or quit smoking... So Vroom says, I've quit smoking. And I say, oh, who am I going to borrow smokes from now? Yeah, I'm a very supportive friend, why do you ask?)
I also have awesome friends: LC, who lives nearby and keeps checking in to make sure I'm okay (yeah, I guess I've lived so long with the Guy everyone thinks I'll fall apart now); Blade, who's been making plans for partying and hanging out and also calling me ever so often; Vroom, who's promised to come over often from Bombay so I don't get lonely.
Anyway, enough about me. Going back to the title of this post, what makes you feel like a superhero?
*In other news, I might be going to see Iron Man 2 tomorrow. Anyone seen it? Is it good?