Wednesday, 24 February 2010

BupBup Touching Base


There's so much crappy stuff in my life right now. I have been living out of a suitcase for several weeks. It has made it really hard for me to find a convenient, easy minute to Blog. I haven't even got spring in my words and I don't really want my current thoughts to dance into my Blog. My current thoughts wouldn't dance though; I think they'd skulk. Very, very tough times.

One of the anchors of 'who I am' has been taken from me. I miss home desperately. I miss all that I am in my home.

Redefining myself without home has been interesting.

I'm no longer a domestic goddess, the King of my Castle. I live in an impersonal space. There are new wrapped bars of soap on the sink each day. There are new sachets of instant coffee and small cartons of Long-life Milk that always squirt up my thumb, no matter which way I open them. I don't have a fridge in my room, and so I have to get my bites to eat at the bar of the hotel. There are dozens and dozens of men here. I guess they are contractors. They park up their white vans in the carpark. They pile into the bar and they sink pint after pint of beer into their fat bellies. They look at me in a funny way. I'm the only girl here and I should be at home being a domestic goddess.

My room has no mobile network coverage and no wireless coverage. It is an isolated cell. I come and go. Nobody says anything to me. I feel invisible. I am glad I am invisible here... no pressures. I am just using the space, until I can turn my back on it and walk away. Back to my home. And I won't ever miss this place. I won't pause to give it a second thought. It will become wonderfully dispensable, whilst currently I know it is horribly indispensable. It bugs me that I need this place, this soulless place.

Books have been a welcome escape. I have been taking the journey with the Joads from Oklahoma to California. I feel their yearning for somewhere to call home. I feel their hardship in the dust and the heat and the injustice of avarice. "The Grapes of Wrath" by Steinbeck. It is a phenomenal read!

1 comment:

Peter said...

At least you've got your O. :o)