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Did I mention doom in the last post? Well things have already begun to happily unravel for me. Its time for my annual mid year crisis. I lost my debit card. Well I thought I lost it anyhow and I cancelled the card. And because Citibank sends a replacement card with such alacrity, I found myself consuming copious amounts of Vada Pavs at Joshi Vada Walle for lack of money for a proper dinner. This is the same joint that attracts Auto wallahs and skoda driving peoples in equal proportions and yes, that’s what I said to console myself in this state of temporary penury.

Things always go haywire for me around June time. Work starts getting hectic, I fall sick a zillion times – and what I hate the most – the combination of those two together. Ever since I’ve started working, I’ve noticed that my most demanding projects happen around June-July AND when I’m at my sickest. That’s life telling me – “Deal with it super girl”. This has happened to me every year for the past 3 years that I’m beginning to suspect a collusion between top management and God. It’s as regular as that 3:30 PM email from boss on Friday afternoons.

Well work has involved a lot of traveling too. It took me to Mahabaleshwar where I spent a rain soaked weekend in a resort that had no cell phone signal. The only place where there was signal was a solitary tree near the pool. Things got so desperate that I was seen juggling a laptop, a phone and a gigantic umbrella, sending emails amidst a downpour under that particular tree. I did that for 2 days and when I was checking out, the hotel manager asked me what I was trying to do exactly. When I told him that I was sending emails and that I’m the consummate worker bee and very dedicated to work and do not mind emailing under desperate conditions, he tells me that there was wi-fi in the lobby.
I wanted to KILL HIM!

Work has also taken to me to a lot of five star hotels and the best, most awesome things about these hotels is the most awesome complimentary breakfasts. I dunno whether it reflects on my upbringing, but I feel like an Ethiopian famine survivor at the sight of so much free food. And food that I my bleak, solitary life doesn’t ordinarily see in one place. All to tuck in as much as I ever want. Sigh. I want to die and go to heaven at this time. A heaven that consists of Bacon, pastries, apricot jams, grape fruit juice, scrambled eggs, potato wedges, pancakes and maple syrup…sigh

Work has also made a mini mafia don out of me. I find myself yelling and making bizarre sentences like “I need that consigment in my office even if you have to sacrifice your life for it” or even contemplating on the alcohol consumption of about a 100 middle aged men. Don’t ask. It’s a lot of stress and I end up getting pissed off quite often. I can literally feel the muscles in my forehead stretching.

And sometimes, because I get so stressed, I stress about being stressed and wonder if I’ll be part of the statistic that takes BP pills below the age of 30. As long as I have constant access to complimentary star-hotel breakfasts, I think Not!