My home got burgled...
So in a series of events that have led me to being a gypsy and living out of a haversack this is the ... wait... I lost count... lets see... there was a flood, then there was leaving India altogether, then there was leaving Stonehenge Road, then Angell court, then Blackwelder, now Linaria circle is a mess... so thats 6. In two years.
And none of this was that pleasant moving into a new home and the thrill and excitement that goes with it. All of this was me being driven out. Either by the forces of nature or horny voyeurs and now latest a bunch of dim-wit burglars who don't even have the common sense not to sell a stolen laptop on e-bay.
Not that I'm upset. I don't seem to get upset about these things anymore.
What is lovely is I have realized I never once had to fall asleep alone anyplace. There was always either the comforting appendages of dubious origin when I fell asleep next to my little cousins sometimes holding otherwise throttling me in Stonehenge. In Angell court there were visitors who either jumped in through the windows and complained the room wasn't big enough before settling down on the floor (and partly under the bed), there were others still who took the entire bed. Blackwelder was a dorm, I'm not sure anyone remembers where they were originally assigned to live anymore. Linaria was home for all the children, the noise, the food, the warmth (well except the kitchen floor...brrr...), the hindi movies, the temple...
So its all good... And adaptation is a skill I have mastered.
I think I'm done venting now.
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