Oh hey, January 2016! ^_^

For the first time in my life, I forgot a friend of mine. Just in my brain. So when she sent me a friendly hello, I paused and realized that I had forgotten her. That made me stop. I used to remember all the details about everyone but that's also because very few people were in my life. As the years pass by, I have started to forget and it has started to make sense. This also means I am more understanding of when other people forget things. I misplace memories or sometimes I lose them entirely (I remember a while back, when I was in India, meeting someone who I apparently knew from tuition classes. Till this date, I can never remember having met him. Bizarre). But I cannot remember the last time I forgot a person entirely. On a happier note, I also realized I have a friend-in-progress. Someone whose company I enjoy very much each time we meet and it gets better. I feel lucky.



In some ways it speaks to the fullness of my days. Not just plain busyness, but something more, something that feels like the beginning of being present, being here in the now. I have always found deep satisfaction in work. But not the kind of work or research that to my mind got made up in graduate school to make people feel busy and stressed - I can't remember any moment of satisfaction in graduate school. Coincidentally my last fulfilling role and this one have one thing in common: they are in the field of education, of 'service' but at the intersection of the public and private sector. In no way do I think that some fields are better than others. I do however believe, some of us are more suited for some fields than others. Also some luck you get and some you make along the way.

The start of January felt a little bit like a bumpy landing. But things have picked up since then in all spheres. Having the sibling in town for a week was an interesting diversion and kept me busy and distracted. Work has been growing steadily and I enjoy it (a bit too much maybe?). There is a lot to do, every single day. I am trying to not fall back into complete workaholism, the escape of my early and mid-twenties. This means going for a run when I can, watching Netflix but also turning it off and reading from my vast pile of books (go Chicago Public Libraries!). I listen to the radio, I listen to my favorite podcasts and laugh as I run, I try and sleep better (and fail at it more often than not). My laughter is brighter and louder for what it's worth.

I just finished Stitches by Anne Lamott and started Men Explain Things To Me by Rebecca Solnit. I am deeply bugged by the fact that I have hair but no style. I accidentally scrubbed off part of my neck in an exfoliating phase. I find myself consciously, perhaps even visibly, stepping away from toxic conversations and people. I am not interested in drowning in the quicksand of your bitterness. I could tell you about the sweet old couple who thanked me a million time when I got up and gave them a seat in the train, which was rightfully their's (and so I did not deserve the thanks but I took it with grace). Or perhaps about the lunch with a colleague which ended up with me being the proud parent of rain boots. Or the strange phenomenon that is men in business suits and ties who deliver food when I order from different Indian restaurants. How I had a chocolate shake and brownie for breakfast yesterday. My plum new nails that please me far more than the orange ones. How I am slowly growing into my habit of reading the newspaper on the bus every morning. I am also excited to read the book on sparking joy by Marie Kondo. So, so much, just below the surface, slowly coming alive. I want to find time to start writing intentionally again. Not just the drafts and scribbles, but the hard work and frustration of hours trying to find the words that fit in my life. I want to put words to all that I see, all that matters to me.