Barely in Brunei
My foot caught on my hem and I nearly toppled over, bogged down by two heavy bags filled with exercise books and enough stationery to serve many; many times over.
I have a bit of a thing for stationery, and a phobia about being ill-prepared for any circumstance.
I cursed the offending garment and swore at the sensible pumps.
No heels!
Hmph!
It was like Superman without his cape, or Indie without his whip and hat.
I am bare without them.
A tuff of hair escaped the scarf wound tight around my neck. I tug tugged at it like it was a noose; the strap of the bag pinching the soft flesh on my forearm.
"What the..." I beg of myself, as I made my way down the dodgy stairs, keeping a lookout for the family of monkeys using the roof of the school as their playground. I had a run-in with the most aggressive one recently, he bared his teeth at me, and I growled right back, sending him scurrying off into the bushes, and with one glaring look he made it clear he'd be back for me.
Barely there in Brunei.
Barely all there.
But there nonetheless.
Inside me a storm was quietly brewing. I cussed at the casual calm of the day, the gentle sway of palm trees, the slight flutter of the yellow flag lifted by a now listless wind. Clouds soft and fluffy like cotton candy hung in powder-blue skies. I stumbled into the staffroom, pushing doors when I should've been pulling, and plonked down in my swivel chair. I sat at my desk curved like a bow weighed down by exercise books and all the gadgets needed by a 21st century teacher.
Kids bounced in and out of the staffroom, spirits lifted by the promise of freedom less than a couple of hours away. I looked at their young, eager faces and missed the time when I was easily swayed by promises and possibilities.
Hiding out behind my phone, my stomach was heavy from early morning feasting in celebration of the beginning of the holidays. I was makan-ed out.
I felt weird lately, less myself than ever before.
I hated to think that I had always been this boring, bashful person.
This realisation at 50 stung hard.
Beautiful woman in colourful costumes sashayed down the busy, narrow corridor. My mood was Darth Vader-black brought on by the realisation that I was having a mid-life crisis.
“An identity crisis at 52!” I whispered to myself in alarm.
I had quietened the siren so well for so long, her song could no longer be heard, and what remained was an alarming calm.
“Many absentees today?” I threw over my right shoulder at my neighbour in the ways of conversation.
“Expect about half,” she smiled still glued to her phone, smiling at someone else miles away.
“Great, reading it is,” I decided out loud gathering my stuff and taking them to the car.
Done and out by the gate in 60 seconds, that was the plan.
Small victories.
Small talk.
And a smaller life.
This thought had popped into my head at 6am when I had a run-in with a tube of toothpaste.You know, that mangled tube with the last bit you've convinced yourself will cover you just one more time because you didn't get round to the shops!
For a second I'd caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and my eyes were frenzied! Damn tube! I laughed that desperate laugh of the rushed. I had been on auto-pilot since the moment my feet hit the floor: prepare lunch - make coffee - strip bed - do washing - iron work clothes - head to bathroom - brush teeth ...DOH!
Mental note (1) Add toothpaste to shopping list (b) Remember the shopping list (3) Tackle scary TO DO List
EXHALE!!!
And there it was: "Life's too short..."
New Plan, New List (chuck the scary one & start over)
My Top 10 Fantasy TO DO List
1. Do forget about losing that extra 5kg's, or hiding those wrinkles.
2. Do have more belly laughs with more of my people.
3. Do seek out the company of my son, despite the often monotone, mono-syllabic responses.
4. Do book that family trip to Japan...& so on & so on...
Thankfully, there are no shortcuts to happiness & well-being. It's a long journey best undertaken slowly with good people by your side.
And please mute the ones that call you crazy, bitch, or strange.
And celebrate the ones that get you!
And maybe, just maybe, the path you are on will be a road well-traveled.
