Waiting for the click

taro chickenIt must be the first time that I did not make a big fuss online about my current whereabouts. This is because I realized it would save me a lot of hassle – which it does!

I caught up with a lot of sleep, part of it related to jet lag, but on the whole it was general exhaustion. And I don’t want anyone to get on my nerves.

In a life of my own I have a routine, which, I do not have back home. My mother has a daily routine, how painful it is for me to watch (because it’s OCD related), I, on the other hand, have no routine at home and thus there is no need to set an alarm as a reminder of things to do. I wake up when I wake up. For once I should think or feel that I have all the time in the world. Though, it didn’t take the feeling of uselessness long to creep up on me and tell me that I need to find a temporary job.


One thing about home is it’s cold. I mean literally. Inside the house. The style is old fashioned. The radiators are hopeless as they don’t seem to work during the day, but will go crazy hot overnight. My skin is more sensitive than it is in Canada, so it cannot be just cold and dry related. I must be allergic to something in the house. Mum’s nose is experiencing the same allergic reaction. It can be the carpet in the bedrooms or there might be undetected mold somewhere. In short, I hate this house, no matter how at ease I feel. I hate it because I can’t offer my family anything better than this. It’s all so 60s or British. I still see old local passers-by stopping in front of our house to scrutinize it with a frown and then begin mumbling to themselves. Yes, it used to be goddamn, fucking restaurant, you shit bags.


I am not used to sleeping in my room where a clock goes ticktack and the cars outside on the main road are louder than usual. I could be imagining it. Small town Germans are quiet and respectful drivers, which I am not, because I am always at someone’s tail. I don’t know if my mum will let me drive her car, knowing how terrible I am with manual and my dad’s automatic one is so big I don’t know how to park it. This is how a useless driver feels – like she shouldn’t drive.


As the useless saga continues I have to admit that I’ve lost all focus on everything. In order to tackle this problem I’ve started grabbing books from my library that I haven’t read. There are at least 30% of my books that I haven’t read and astonishingly I can focus on single stories. I believe I’m on the right path and I shall continue strolling up this way until something clicks.


Oh and I have missed my dad’s delicious taro chicken!



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