Has it really been 23 days since my last post? Whatever happened to “one post a day” ambition. I was convinced that nothing would be able to cure my internet addiction, but then there was someone I met, who swayed me away from this evil thing. It was my home in New Delhi (India) and the overdue love of my parents. And when my 8 week holiday was coming to an end, I realised that I won’t be meeting my family for the next year or so. That’s when I bid adieu to my lappy and said hello to family slash epic holiday time.
At home, I was pampered, spoilt, taken care of, loved and even yelled at (rarely, i promise). It was a very satisfying break as I got to indulge in things that I love. I got to write, get pedicures on a fortnightly basis, weekly head and back massages and stuff my face with my mum’s yummy curries.
But now it’s all over. No more “dinner’s ready” calls. No more “wake up it’s almost 2 in the afternoon”. And no more “let’s go shopping and get you some clothes”. It’s back to reality. I am back in Brisbane, in my tiny room, and I already have a huge pile of washing to be done. I thought planning a holiday was a task, but my after holiday to-do list takes the biggest piece of the cake. (I also happen to have a very bitter relationship with to-do lists. They love mocking me and I love making my life sound in their existence. But we’ll discuss that some other day. Maybe.)
As I landed in Brisbane and entered the airport, I was splashed with nostalgia. I met a friend from uni in the immigration line. Her sunburnt face and colourful sarong screamed for the fact that she had been holidaying on the lovely beaches of Thailand. Meeting her reminded me that uni is about to start. BAM! The looming deadlines of assignments. Getting an average of 3 hours of sleep every night. All those coffee bills. Proof-reading the assignments over and over again (and still not getting a high distinction). And a social life that can be best compared to a snail. That entire cycle will be starting all over again. And this time, I don’t think I’m ready for it.
So I said goodbye to my friend slash sprinted past the immigration, took my luggage and stepped outside. Now Brisbane’s way of welcoming me was with rain. And that was rather wonderful. You might not count, sticky humid weather, in the IDEAL welcome package – but I do. After Delhi’s biting cold winds and shivering nights, I was ready for some serious sun and a dirty, sticky heat. I craved for it. Call me crazy, but I’d hoped for a 40-degree prediction. And Hallelujah! I got my heat baby!
Now jet lag and I were never the best of friends. I actually have a love-hate relationship with it. It loves me when I travel west – I get to sleep early and wake up early. I actually get normal days. But it acts like a total bitch when I return back to Australia – I don’t go to bed till 4 am and don’t wake up until 12 in the arvo. Well this is exactly what happened for the first three nights. I couldn’t sleep. I tried day dreaming. I even tried watching a cricket match. Nah! Nothing worked. I felt like I was sleepwalking in the day and actually walking at night. So one day I decided to sleep my holiday-haze away, and I did. I slept for 14 hours – straight. And boy was I normal after that sleep!
One of my biggest regrets, when returning back from a relaxing holiday, is the mental image of my messy tornado-hit room. I start getting horrific visions of it. It’s a very scary thought. Scarier than Paranormal Activity, I promise you. As I got home, I realised that I have 2 suitcases FULL of clothes and my already-existing-closet is also FULL of clothes. Sorting all that took me an entire length of 10 meals, 4 sleeps, 6 showers and about 7 hours of iTunes playlist.
Another annoying factor of leaving the house for longer durations is the full stop to the food supply. Restocking the entire pantry and refrigerator is not fun. Grocery shopping was a like an activity for me, but ever since I started working at a grocery store, it has become a headache. Especially after a holiday when you have to buy EVERYTHING from scratch. Yuck – most apt expression.
Something that I am still procrastinating from and am, literally, running away from – is sorting through the hundreds of holiday photos and categorising them for various websites. Not only am I being pressurised into loading three albums with 200 photos each on Facebook, but I have Flickr and Twitter and family photo albums etc etc. to look after. It is a pain in all the wrong places.
So as I try to sleep, eat, shop, work, go to the gym, socialise and be an internet geek – all at the same time – I will try to look back at the wonderful 8-weeks that I spent with family and embrace each one of them for the next 12 months of my solitude.
And hopefully not dislike getting back to my second home here in Australia. Wish me luck!