That pothole on the road…

My life, usually so organized, does not function well without a target. A sort of an arrow it is. Leave it around somewhere lying about and pretty soon it’s going to get an attack of the heebie jeebies.


And I’ve got the heebies now. And a mild attack of the jeebies too, I think.

As you might know, if you have been paying attention (narrows eyebrows) I had it all figured out. I was going to get entry into my MBA, go through the VISA application in a breeze, and start a new chapter of my life abroad. Granted, I hadn’t given much thought to what I was going to actually do after the MBA (work probably) but hey, at least I had a plan and knew where it was all heading for the next year yeah? I could sit back and relax a bit.

But then the shit hit the fan. OK that’s not really true, for if the shit hit the fan, there would at least be some justification for my ultimate trust that the variables in my plan would work out. Am I making sense here? Cos I don’t think I am. To put it another way, the shit didn’t even get as far as the fan to begin with.

I had unshakeable belief that things would work out exactly according to plan. This is quite strange for me, the overbearing cynic that I am.

But to say that the ground was pulled out from under my feet would be entirely inaccurate.

No, the ground wasn’t pulled from underneath my feet. It was placed right below me just as I had reached the critical velocity and the precise point where I was supposed to pull the cord to release my parachute so to speak, in a skydiving context and faced with the lack of a better analogy. I took the leap you see, and expected the rest to just be a piece of my Grandma’s delicious ripened date cake.

Then shit happened. Or didn’t even bother to happen, whichever way you look at it.

So now I’m stuck with my mouth hanging open. Except for when it mindlessly moves to shape nonsensicalities without really producing much in the sound department. My legs have kind of lost their sense of feeling as well and are trying to move off in ten different directions at once.

Am I in shock? Hmmm I don’t know doctor, but can I have a lollipop while I think about it?