October 2, 2009

The aftermath

So the bubble popped, leaving me with a mild trauma that still disturbs my sleep. I did the math and figured it's going to take me a few months, a trip to Slovenia, three pairs of shoes, countless hours at the library and about five evening shifts in the tent as to fully recover. It was only this week that I finally came to understand Warsaw. All this time, I claimed we had a special connection, a bond that was beyond words, but I was so far from the truth. After the most intense and stressful ten days in my life (this is what I get for having wanted a real job, with an office, a schedule and a shitload of responsibility) I grasped the meaning of the word zbombardowany (bombed). Much like the city during World War II, I was a wreck. And had to start the rebuilding process from the very basics. On Sunday morning, having shipped the last group of guests back to Bucharest, I managed to catch my breath and hop on the train to Kato. And life seemed to be getting back to normal. I'm still far from having settled down, and under normal conditions I would have complained about the mess I'm in, but the past weeks have taught me a very valuable lesson: there is always a solution, even in the most desperate and edgy situations. So I was finally able to sit back, relax, and congratulate myself for having pulled through.
One year ago, I was in the process of adapting to a new city, crying my eyes out and wishing to go back to Bucharest, as nothing seemed to make any sense. The pieces of the puzzle just wouldn't match. The awful start is now just another reason for me to make fun of my impatience and crisis-management issues. Much in the same way, I'm dealing now with another brand new beginning, which puts ten times more pressure on my head, but which I seem to handle with a greater deal of calm. If growing up is all about being less hysterical and finding creative solutions to all thinkable and unthinkable problems, then I'm determined to stop fighting the ageing process. However, my biggest wish for next October is for it to find me in the middle of something. Anything, as long as I'm in the middle. I love beginnings, I'd start over and over again, as long as I don't have to do it in October. I'm afraid I'm developing a pattern and, if things carry on like this, I'll have not just a pattern, but a phobia.

4 comments:

Chuckie the Flatmate said...

Quote of the day
If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans.
Woody Allen

A few weeks ago, I got a book from a friend, called Anarhie pura (Mere Anarchy), but I only got to reading it these days. As soon as I saw the name of the translator, I burst into laughter and realized it was time to check up on you (eees, after all this time)... So I am :)

Btw, you have no contact information here...

Ruxandra said...

Nice to have u around, Chuckie. As you can see, I'm still alive & kicking. Oh, and just so you know, I'm working on a second Woody Allen book, called The Insanity Defense.
And no, no contact information. No muss, no fuss :)

Kynegoo said...

erm, bubbles ... burst. cherries ... kinda ... pop
just sayin'

Ruxandra said...

bubbles pop. balloons pop. cherries also pop.
* [I or T] to (cause something to) make a short explosive sound, often by breaking something (Cambridge)
* to make or burst with a sharp sound "a balloon popped" (Webster)