Well, if there was ever a day that I would begin my "whining in a public forum" phase, today might just be it. I have some obvious causes for my nascent whininess: days of cold rain pelting down on my tropically acclimated head, the return of the routine, the lack of noodles stalls. Any or all of these things might cause one to snivel a bit, but the combination may be too much for me.
I also know that there are big problems in the world, earthquakes and tsunamis and suffering. While it may seem crass or at the very least completely self-absorbed for me to be whining while the world suffers, I can only say that this is true. The same, of course, is true anytime anyone whines. There is always someone whining and at the same time there is intense suffering in the world. Today: mea culpa.
The real cause of my protruding lower lip lies not in my stars, precious, but in myself. Cleverly anticipating this post journey funk and knowing that some serious 'splaining needed to happen, I made notes in my travel journal. I in fact committed the cardinal sin of well-intentioned fools, I wrote down the things that needed to be changed. They are still there, smirking smugly from my little black shoulder bag that I bargained for in Vientiane. No one appreciates smugness and least of all smugness that is self-created and has now risen in revolt against its maker. I mean, who do they think gave them life anyway? Ingrates.
So today I am whiny, sort of like Cheops might have been way back in Egypt (except he was undoubtedly looking out of a window at the sun instead of a mushy quagmire). One morning Cheops is having a cuppa, thinking about his legacy and he jots down some hieroglyphics on a scrap of papyrus: "How about a pyramid? That would be nice". The next day while he is having his tea he sees this scribbled down on paper and, slapping the royal forehead, realizes that no matter how good an idea it is, now he has to round up the slaves and the overseers, start cutting big rocks and dragging them to Giza for the stacking up. All because he jotted down some idea. Yuppers, he wrote it down.
During the course of my time in SE Asia I faithfully kept a travel journal, as is my wont. Along with recording what wonders I had seen or smelt or tasted that day, I kept track of thoughts and ideas engendered by travel. Distance almost always changes perspective and this trip was no different. There are issues in my life that have now been made obvious by the relative position of the observer. I could just bitch about the things that are bugging me, but I went and enumerated the issues in my journal along with ideas and thought on making changes.
Now, back in the sogginess of the GreyNorWet, I do believe my grace period has expired. I have slunk about, complaining about the cold and the rain, turning my nose up at the available food and dreading the weekday trek to my office. I have been generally sour company for myself and those around me with the exception of when I relate tales about my time in Thailand or Laos. I have been told that at those times I "light up".
So, out comes the journal from its little bag and from its smug pages I will have to review all of the traps I laid for myself. I remember writing little gems like "This can be changed if only the courage to change is applied to it.." and things of that ilk. Dangerous things. For moral reasons alone, much less logistical ones, I cannot call on an army of slave to build my pyramid. I suppose I am going to have to carry the stone myself. Damn.
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