Monday, May 24, 2010


Working from home is a curse and blessing for the same reasons. It’s nice to set my hours. But there are days when I sit at the computer from 7:00 am to 11:00 pm. While clad in pajamas, the first thing to touch my lips (after I brush my teeth) is coffee. But as a snacker having my entire kitchen at my disposal is not deal for my waistline. And as a people person spending this much time alone is not good for me.

So when my Urban Nomads, Meera and Rohit, need my help, I can re-arrange my schedule to align with theirs. And if you’re keeping track, in the 11 months I have lived in Manhattan, they are moving into their third apartment.

While I am happy to help them I am secretly hoping I will miraculously meet a new man as we unload the car. One who will see me from across the street and deftly dart between deliverymen and oncoming traffic to ask my name. He won’t notice my attire (yoga pants and Keds) or hair (in a ponytail) and insist I join him for coffee. Unfortunately I will have to politely decline. My very important task of car-sitting to avoid ticketing and towing will keep us part. Of course my loyal dedication to friendship and duty will only deepen his attraction for me. And magically after a scene change and dance routine, we fall in love. Clearly I have watched one too many Bollywood movies, but this vivid imagination is all that gets me through the rock bottom misery days.

And no, I don’t simply mean heartbreak or Reindeer rejection. I am not ready to abandon the tough Manhattan dating battleground, where the women out-number the men. Give me some time, but I’m plucky and will get back into the game. It’s just that this break-up with Reindeer has ignited something deeper, my self-doubt. Right now my confidence is a little rattled and I’m wondering what I’m doing with my life and who am I living it for.

When I think about all the years I spent volunteering, I should have been focusing on myself. If I had moved to New York 10 years ago, I could have avoided the colossal career missteps I made. Who says I have to marry desi? And now that I live in one of the most American states, I am haunted by my lack luster savings. Why did I think 12 was the number of black pants I needed? I only have one ass. I should have invested all that money so I could save it (my ass) now!

So yeah, most days it’s my vivid imagination getting me through the now. It has me envisioning a tomorrow where I have a career that fulfills me, a life that energizes me, friends who nourish me and a love that sustains me. It keeps the insomnia at bay. And if all else fails, I have to believe that this is my life and I can reincarnate it any time I want.


Samosas for One said...

So seeing as how this post was written referring to how you felt a few years ago...were you able to make the things you listed in the last paragraph come to fruition? I hope so! :)

101 Bad Desi Dates said...

Dear Samosas for One ... yes it is in the past ... thank goodness :) otherwise how would I be able to laugh at myself! The last paragraph, like me, is a work in progress ...