Shifted

We moved. It's done.

My ex-neighbours were extra nice in the last few days (hmmm..something tells me that is not a good reflection); and my neighbourhood was resounding with a clear and unequivocal sentiment that my kid will be missed dearly. See, I am not a fan of brutal honesty. I'll miss my old neighbours, atleast some of them (and I am not just throwing it in as I know that atleast one of the latter will be reading this. Hi Radha!!).

I am a moderate pack rat, married to pack rat extraordinaire. Together we have amassed a fortune of urban junk that would make the stinkiest of rodents envious. We have a whole different interpretation of 'One person's trash is another's treasure'. So after fainting a little bit, the packers shoved every one of our *collectibles* with moderate annoyance into their cardboard cubicles and delivered them safely (with a couple of scratches or twelve) to our new apartment. After three days of frantic unpacking, now the apartment resembles a place suitable for human dwelling.

I didn't realize how sentimental I was about my old apartment until I moved here. That still feels like home, while this like a waiting room at a train station; and an expensive one to boot.

more than a penny for their thoughts

What I am about to write is very closely related to what Ram had said in his post about absenteeism. I am referring to it in the context of hired help. My mom had hired help when we were growing up and now I have three; I have no shame in admitting that I struggle to survive through the day without them. I have managed to keep a good relationship with all of them, and no one's about to spit in my drink when I am not looking (and at the end of the day, this is as good as it gets).

But the hardest part about managing them is their total disregard for call-ins when absent; It's a different rant altogether that most of the time there isn't even a valid reason for being absent in the first place. My maid has taken days off for the death of her father-in-law, thrice. I tried being the employer of the year when I started, but slowly figured (after two years, no less) that being the feudal lord yields better results -- but thanks to my passive aggressive trait (true to my genealogy, I'll proudly add) it is almost impossible for me to pull this off.

For those who are shaking their heads at this point: "I am not saying that I won't let my employees take a day off, I am just pleading that they give me advance notice". Even if one of them doesn't show up unannounced my whole day falls apart, and this drives me up the wall. In a few exceptional cases that I got advanced notices, I managed to find a way to work it out. They definitely got their day off or two and they didn't even have to pseudo-kill their kith or kin over it. Everybody won (sort of). I am waiting for the day that this becomes a norm.

Up until recently I couldn't put my finger on why I treat my job differently than my maids do, given that the necessity I have in retaining my job is almost negligible (economically speaking)! I guess what I aspire to have is a career, while they are busy making a living (duh!). Just about enough money to keep them off the streets and they are good to go. That and they invest more time in people, even if it is at the cost of ruining their source of income.

I have spent quite sometime thinking about this, and I hope that I haven't simplified it.

Commitment

We are moving to a new apartment soon. Not too far away, just a couple of streets further down our current place. Nonetheless, a full fledged move, involving packers and the aura of madness they reek of; add a child to this and you almost have a movie.

We have lived in this city close to three years now and haven't yet bought our own place. I am unsurpassed in my ability to stare at something good, and say, 'No Thanks', because I know that 'the best' is coming along. I just know it. My husband and I are a match that real estate agents' nightmares are filled of: we are extremely critical and we have the right amount of indecisiveness to annoy anyone willing to humor us. Together we have managed to stay non-commital with every house we have lived in and looked at.

"But the kitchen didn't have a place to store all the delicate china that we don't have"

*sigh*

I guess our wariness (indecisiveness and eventual decline to pursue) stems from our need to never 'settle for something'; pointless what-ifs, it's a lifestyle for some. But after we have declined an offer I always end up iterating over the pros and cons of the dead deal until the cows come home. It's an elaborate exercise involving techno gadgets (such as MS Excel) to convince the present me that the past me did not dwell in frivolity but was indeed a noble creature who made some very wise judgements. Being me is very exhausting.

My self-righteous conscience is frowning at my inclusive 'we' usage in this post: Ok, for the record, between me and the husband, I am more decisive about the indecisiveness. My kid however, is still in the envious, yet pesky age of simplicity. The toughest part of this move for me is to explain to my kid the need for leaving his 'home'.

Why start now?

I have never published anything ever; I'd like to think of it as lack of motivation and I won't like it if you suggested anything else. Currently my writings are limited to official mails and the likes -- pretty boring stuff if I think about it (I try not to, for most parts). It's not that I don't have thoughts worthy of publishing, I am pretty sure that don't have thoughts or the penmanship worthy of paid publishing.

So, why start now? The Internet has proved to me that anybody with a stable internet connection can publish, that is why. That and creating a blog is easier than I thought.

I write software for a living but this blog won't be about that. It in fact won't even be about anything in particular. Think of me as your next door neighbour who talks about the morning breakfast. And on a good day, about the weather. Nice meeting you and if you still decide to show up again, see you around.