My maid stole the milk carton and more gah things from the week that was ...

As the earlier post alluded to, this has been one of the crappiest weeks ever. Physically, mentally and intellectually. Don't ask wise ass questions like "what's the difference". I'm pissed off enough as it is.

Most recent manifestation of a bad week was when I woke up this morning to find that the fresh milk carton I'd painstakingly stored in the fridge (tea with any other brand/ kind of milk tastes like custard chai. I don't know if you'll even get it. But it sucks.) had magically disappeared.

Now I KNOW I'd had that milk only starting Wednesday morning coz my tooth was sore until Tues morning, and I KNOW a carton lasts me a full 5 days esp. when my flat mate is away (she is. it made it easier to manage the kitchen this week what with not having to eat leftover sambar for 4 consecutive days in an attempt to finish it without waste).

My incredible powers of deduction hence lead me to believe (Gawd. I'm reminded of work by the way I wrote that and it's bringing on a new wave of GAHness. ARGH.) that the only person who could've accidentally (on purpose?) thrown away the milk carton is my maid who comes in once every 2 days.

And because of her stupidity, I had to gulp down 2 glasses of the only liquid there was at home - Cold Chocolate Milk. Although it might just help the cause of the very painful pimple that is appearing on my forehead, it did very little to soothe my pounding headache, the kind I've been waking up with throughout this week.

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There's times that you question your own abilities, ask yourself pointless questions like "why did I have to be constructed this way?" and revisit all former assumptions about your own strengths and abilities simply based on how rarely they've manifested themselves recently.

Usually, these are times that one goes through for good reason, coz it leads to a nice kinda change post the baptism through fire. I'm sensing however, that this isn't one of those times. Simply put, I don't see an end in sight to the constant questioning of my abilities that I've begun to experience.

And everyone knows that's pretty much the bane of a smart person. (Yes. I do think I'm smart. No shame in being honest about it.) To get to that point where they feel like all they do is make mistakes or not live up to expectations, coz they're usually fueled by the *belief* that they are smart, and hence having to question that *belief* so often is just bad for their well being, often resulting in a vicious cycle of "I'm pathetic at everything I do".

I wish I could say I know how to fix this. But for now, I can only muster the energy to sigh about it. Maybe I'll get productively cracking on it soon.

Maybe I won't. Or Can't.

Sigh.
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I have incredible respect for people who say very little. (Unless of course it's someone I'm dating coz my annoyance with the exclusion from their life starts to override any respect the thriftiness with words might have evoked.)

I have read frustration expressed (in many forms) over verbal diarrhea that people that subject others to. I used to be (not that I've completely ceased to yet) someone prone to talking a LOT as well. My 1st boss was a man who by his ingenious methods (read - develop impatient yet kind look on face when Ms. Tic starts pointless rambling) made me curb the evil evil habit. It's one of the many things I respect him most for - being able to change me in a way that didn't make me feel smaller and made me want to get better all at once.

And no matter what forum it is, I find that people are not only more drawn to listening to, but also take much much more seriously the words from the mouth of a person who is measured with delivering them. Sort of a less is more phenomenon.

Do you ever feel that? Esp. at work? That you respect the quieter people much more than the talkative ones? Do you?
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I saw her again yesterday. At the bus stop. She got into a bus and we didn't make eye contact. We never do.

Ever since we had that fall out (which i haven't spoken about for what - 1.5 years now?) I've wondered if it's really possible to hate someone as much as she despises me.

Now I don't LOVE an awful many people. But I've rarely hated anyone with a vicious hatred that I've been at the receiving end of. In fact the only person I can think of having hated muchly is this guy in B school who had this constant lecherous look about him and it felt sick to even have to walk past him coz you could sense that he was mentally undressing you. But really, other than that it's doubtful I've hated someone so much.

You know the weird thing? Every bloody time I bump into her - at the coffee machine, at the elevator - and I attempt a smile, she looks straight through me as if I didn't exist. For all my alleged bravado, I've never once mustered the courage to ask her why.

And here's the thing. Every one of those times I go back home baffled and admittedly affected by her behavior and without fail, that very night, dream about making peace with her.

Every single time. About 4 times in all now.

I'd try to rationalize that maybe it's a sign that I should try, but instinct tells me even attempting it is stupid and pointless.

But then again, so weird to be affected so much by someone who doesn't even matter, just coz they dislike me.
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I miss this stupid bird who has flown the nest from Singapore. When she was here, we'd have the coolest things lined up to do over weekends. Friday night cook ins. Wine. Movies at home. Bringing other friends over. Once a week I'd be gahed out by something and she'd make me dinner at home and we'd sit quietly and watch mindless TV. Weekends were filled with going to the library, eating out at nice places, going to the beach, even inane things like picking up Filmfare at Mustafa.

Sometimes we'd get sick of each other and just keep the distance until the next morning when we'd make the customary call to plan the day. We shared the kind of proximity that lets you discover exactly what you love and hate about each other. That leads to fights that make you question if you'd ever speak to the person normally ever again and yet makes you seek the solace of their company when all else seems to be going wrong.

She made life bright and sunny through a phase when I didn't know where life would go. Taught me how to smile through it all and crib my heart out for cathartic relief.

I want her back.
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I'm flying out on work again next week and you know what my biggest fear is? That my fake tooth will break and fall off as I unsuspectingly chew on something crunchy forgetting that the corner incisor is indeed fake and temporary!!!

(How do you communicate something as stupid as this to the people you work with and NOT have them fall off their chairs laughing at you? )

I need someone to remind me constantly. That is of course, when I do eat the vegetarian food they will sparingly produce to oblige me. Gah.

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