So, there was a little accident in the house when the Fellow and I were both away. Our two and a half year old LG refrigerator decided it had had enough of life and spontaneously (or so I imagine) combusted. The result? A charred and bombed out fridge, curtains that cannot be used ever again except perhaps as rags, a kitchen that looked like it had been in Pompei, wardrobes that need dry cleaning, and wall resembling something out of a horror story, complete with blackened spider webs hanging off the ceilings.
I won’t bore you with the details (and there are a *lot*), but let’s just say that it took the Fellow and me nearly 10 days to move all our belongings to a new house and get about 90% soot free (10% being the clothes that were awaiting their turn at the dry cleaners). Of course, even before we were 5% soot free, the broadband internet connection was in place and the DTH service on track. We were home so to say (C’mon, you know home is where the broadband is). And just as soon as something of a routine was in place, however dysfunctional it might be (I mean, no pillows, or pillow covers, no functional kitchen, no fridge, no broom even, and just 4 curtains), I left to attend a friend’s wedding in Bombay and finish some incomplete work. And just in time. The next day we were allotted a bigger house, meaning that the just moved into house would have to be moved out of and into a new house again, making it our 4th move in as many months. Yes, that is the screaming inside my head that you can hear.
But before you start feeling bad for me, remember the Fellow and how awesome he can be at times like these. Yes. I do have nice things to say about the Fellow you know. Anyhoo, he insists I stay in Bombay, finish my work and not stress about moving house. He would do it all. And being the good Indian wife that I am, how can I not listen to my husband right?
PS: The next post shall be a visual one. Then you may feel bad for me and my soot-filled soul.
PS2: If you follow me on Twitter, maybe the next post will help you forgive me for bombing your timelines with self obsessed talk about soot and my traumatised life.