So the mother stopped by my blog again and this time, with just one read, she pointed out what was wrong with it. For months I have been struggling to put my finger on why my writing is not what it used to be. I have blamed everything from summer heat to living in a non-English speaking country. But today she told me 'you are losing your wit and sarcasm' and just like that the ton of bricks that had been hanging over the head came crashing down! You see, to anyone else this might not sound like a cause for concern, in fact it might warrant a wee bit o' celebration. However, this wit and sarcasm were my refuge, my solace. They won me friends, helped me keep said friends, pulled me out of the depths of despair and made me smile with the dialogue in my head. I don't see any sharpening tools looming on the horizon so I guess I must be patient and pray to the sarcasm Gods to show mercy. While I, as a mere mortal shall drown myself in Wodehouse - that elixir of wit afforded to us by the Gods!

It is strange how the simple act of getting out of bed, getting dressed and coming to an office an increase one's sense of self worth. It is another matter that the offices are empty because everybody is away on holiday and you are the only loser working. Still, we shall dwell on the self worth angle and not on the loser. I never thought of myself as an 'office goer', work as I do, as a 'corporate' at a university which is to say I can pretend for longer than others and can talk the hind leg off the proverbial donkey. Yet, donning the garb and footing it to work straightens the posture, clears the head (I am convincing myself it is the atmosphere and not the coffee!) and urges, rather than forces, one to get to work. A far cry from rolling out of bed, onto the chair, cup of tea in hand and spending the day in front of the laptop in pajamas. A far cry really.