Upon leaving for Bhutan, I convinced myself I was in need of a solo mission, to embrace the single life of Jen, live a bit on the edge, and rely on no safety nets... Glass half full.
Then I was in bed surrounded by tissues with a raging fever. You can’t exactly make a phone call to the sub coordinator over here. You have a friend take your class for a day, and then try to sweat out the fever in class the next day. If you are lucky, you may even get to be in charge of all the sixth grade boys, while the girls have the, “don’t flush your menstrual pads down the only school toilet” talk.
Days like these really highlight the fact that chillips cannot digest rice. These are also the days you notice if the water pressure is ultra soft while you are squatting to shower. I justify this blog post by saying that every now and then, the glass half full Jen needs a vacation too.
This weekend the sun was out and I went for a walk. I remember thinking, it is an interesting feeling to know there is not a damn person in your phone, who has known you for ten years, and who loves you unconditionally enough to listen to your crazy banter, tolerate a mini bitching session, or even share a funny inside joke to cheer you up. How’s that for no safety net?
As I reached the bottom of a nice hiking path up a hill, the sun hid behind a cloud. I could see where the sun was still shining, so I turned to head back down the mountain instead, in pursuit of the warmth. The Jen on the self-journey tried to convince myself this was symbolic of the need to create happiness in times of darkness.
These ideas were quickly squashed when I realized it was more entertaining to stare at the mirage of the beautiful blond man walking towards me, flinging the salt water out of his hair, while brushing sand off his washboard abs. If you know this man, please tell him I am on a self-journey and he is invited. Please don’t forget to mention that I am single.