Two days ago I flopped on the yoga mat, stretched, strained, committed sit ups and the next day my lower back tightened up and a day later I walk like Mary Poppin penguins. How in the world can I do anything about my girth without hurting myself. All my clothes are at the brink. I think six weeks climbing and a reduction in bread is a call to order.
Students who appealed their failing marks are still going to fail unless mercy and an influential uncle intervene.
Ten days to go. The first of July. A year ago I was handing out razors and hotel soaps to the homeless and addicted. A few people meander the halls of E building. All exams are finished, Ramadan is in it's third day. I can't seem to pay for the car I've rented for the past month. A call last night in front of the Al Wathaba Rental office and the man who is stepping in for Khalfan says he'll be in the office at 9am the next morning. He wasn't. I waited 15 minutes. I can't let this kind of aloofness bother me. It's annoying and to let something like this annoy is a concession that someone else can control me. I won't let it happen. It's not worth it. He'll get his money eventually. Whatever, right? Ke garne, what to do?
So what are you doing to keep yourself busy? Well I bought hot dogs and had hot dog pitas yesterday. I look out the window in the sitting/reading/tv room to the east, a blanched site with few venturing anywhere. The fast breaks after 7pm, tents have been erected all over the city for the fasters. Food, I assume, is donated by the city. I pace a lot, watch tv, read. I've almost finished The Atlantic's June issue, and am half way through 'Canada' which to my disappointment isn't what I thought it'd be, but I'm stilling reading, even though the light paperback font strains. The 15 year old narrator has left Montana and is in Saskatchewan, and it's picking up. And that's it, with a sore back and temps too hot and lame television though sometimes they show a movie again I could watch again and that kills an hour or so, my existence peters on. I look forward to sleeping more than anything. Another day done. Not much of a life is it, to wait for the next day and the next day. I'm not expecting change I'm anticipating change.
A few weeks ago a couple of maintenance fellas came in and tweeked the wall a/c in the office and every day since it is butt cold freezing. The remote is useless so I turn it off after an hour and then someone comes in and turns it on. Yawn.
Your summer plans are shaping up. Well, I've been looking at one way flights to the states and back here and I am just feeling cheap. One from KTM to DTW and then one from DTW to MCT is much more than a simple return but as you can see I'm not returning from whence I left. So that means hanging out in at least one place for six weeks or so. And you're alright with that? I guess. I can imagine how it'll be. There will be no surprises, no new places to visit. But there will be good people, cute kids, wonderful rain and fog and wind and thunder boomers and mother nature who doesn't disappoint. I ought to have a computer and hence I'll have this blog to blather on. That's good, right? For no one but myself I suppose, a tiny insignificant Buddha who through some fault of his own, wanted to know too much.
Students who appealed their failing marks are still going to fail unless mercy and an influential uncle intervene.
Ten days to go. The first of July. A year ago I was handing out razors and hotel soaps to the homeless and addicted. A few people meander the halls of E building. All exams are finished, Ramadan is in it's third day. I can't seem to pay for the car I've rented for the past month. A call last night in front of the Al Wathaba Rental office and the man who is stepping in for Khalfan says he'll be in the office at 9am the next morning. He wasn't. I waited 15 minutes. I can't let this kind of aloofness bother me. It's annoying and to let something like this annoy is a concession that someone else can control me. I won't let it happen. It's not worth it. He'll get his money eventually. Whatever, right? Ke garne, what to do?
So what are you doing to keep yourself busy? Well I bought hot dogs and had hot dog pitas yesterday. I look out the window in the sitting/reading/tv room to the east, a blanched site with few venturing anywhere. The fast breaks after 7pm, tents have been erected all over the city for the fasters. Food, I assume, is donated by the city. I pace a lot, watch tv, read. I've almost finished The Atlantic's June issue, and am half way through 'Canada' which to my disappointment isn't what I thought it'd be, but I'm stilling reading, even though the light paperback font strains. The 15 year old narrator has left Montana and is in Saskatchewan, and it's picking up. And that's it, with a sore back and temps too hot and lame television though sometimes they show a movie again I could watch again and that kills an hour or so, my existence peters on. I look forward to sleeping more than anything. Another day done. Not much of a life is it, to wait for the next day and the next day. I'm not expecting change I'm anticipating change.
A few weeks ago a couple of maintenance fellas came in and tweeked the wall a/c in the office and every day since it is butt cold freezing. The remote is useless so I turn it off after an hour and then someone comes in and turns it on. Yawn.
Your summer plans are shaping up. Well, I've been looking at one way flights to the states and back here and I am just feeling cheap. One from KTM to DTW and then one from DTW to MCT is much more than a simple return but as you can see I'm not returning from whence I left. So that means hanging out in at least one place for six weeks or so. And you're alright with that? I guess. I can imagine how it'll be. There will be no surprises, no new places to visit. But there will be good people, cute kids, wonderful rain and fog and wind and thunder boomers and mother nature who doesn't disappoint. I ought to have a computer and hence I'll have this blog to blather on. That's good, right? For no one but myself I suppose, a tiny insignificant Buddha who through some fault of his own, wanted to know too much.
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