This effort called writing

Long absenteeism, yeah!

I didn't expect myself to get so ultra busy when others around me are enjoying their last few days at home. Add to one of the many disadvantages of not staying away from home ever - you just don't realize what's it going to be like. The other side of the next month is obscure, hidden and guarded by an opaque wall. Nothing seems to be working as I expected, not even me. I knew I was fickle-minded, but to such an extent, its kinda scary.

I am an epitome of confusion right now, and believe me, this state of mixed feelings is not good, not funny and nowhere near enjoyable! I have been cribbing about office since a year now. Been more than vocal about how much I yearned to get away from the place. And the day I put in my papers, it friggin' annoys me! This 'Countdown Begins' game gives you the rush just for a couple of hours. And almost instantaneously you stop enjoying it. I wish they had the policy of keeping the last working date a mystery till it came. I don't know which one would have been better.

I have never felt the need of a support so much. It's like this big leap across a valley that I'm going to take, thinking there are people encouraging me, ready to catch me if anything goes wrong. And when I look at them hopefully, they look back at me questioningly, as if they're saying, "We didn't know we were expected to do this for you...sorry!". And I feel like a fool assuming I had them. It's weird, very very weird!

baa ah! It's an irritating realization that every time I sit down to write something these days, I get super-emotional and sentimental. Half a dozen posts were scraped off when I read what I'd written.

I have no idea what all I have scribbled. For the first time probably I'm going to post something without so much as looking at the number of paragraphs I managed.

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