Monday, August 30, 2004

I need a new life, this one's defective.

I like to use my blog as a sort of humor column to help me see the funny side of reality. But what can I do when this past week has been traumatic and stressful in a very personal way? I need a secret blog where I can write about my real life. Here's a censored version of what it would be like:

Last Wednesday, Hubby and I were in Karachi visiting his brother, rested and happy from our recent trip to the UAE, glad that **** had concluded interviews with the *** while on their recent *******. We were very glad that they had returned safely with the only bad event they reported was their ******* going off the deep end as he is known to do occasionally.
Hopefully, that is the end of family secret #1.)

Our buoyant spirits were interrupted when ***** walked into the house. He had been staying in Islamabad with ***** and ****. Something was wrong...Hubby called home, no answer, called the restaurant, and got the horrible news that*******. We returned later that evening and found ************************. Family secret # 2 had emerged!

Four days of family crisis ensuded, during which, *************************!

Sunday, I went to Church and spoke to three people. They all asked how ***** was doing and my answer was, "**************************************." That threw me into a blue funk. After the service, I was the first one to leave, I didn't want to hang around to talk to any more people. I drove like a hellion the whole way and swatted a beggar boy away from my car window at the stop light at F-10. (That made me feel even worse, like even God couldn't love a hypocrite like me.) I came home and sulked in my bed for most of the afternoon. I suppose that explains why my usual Sunday blog was delayed.

There is one funny thing we observed this week. Abez went to the doctor and he asked, "How's your family doing? Your father told me about what' s been happening." Abez didn't know if he was referring to family tragic secret #1 or #2. She assumed he was talking about #2 and blithely said, "*******************." The stunned look on his face revealed her mistake. We later discussed the need to give our friends security clearance codes. How can we remember who knows what when there are so many family traumas and secrets afloat? Now when a family friend asks, "How's the family doing?" We will respond, "What is your security clearance code?" and then proceed from there. No more stunned looks. No more breaches in family security.

Today, I slept late, ate breakfast, did 1/2 the crossword and promptly went back to bed; lay there in the heat and humidity, sulking and depressed till I slept, woke up, ate (do you see a reoccurring pattern here?) I am going to try to pull myself out of this funk by walking down the road to cut some wild sunflowers. That is my life. And that is why I need a new one.


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