One of those days

Some days it's gruelling to be working across so many work cultures and personalities in Asia. Those are the times when I really do wonder how anything gets done and struggle to vive la différence. 

Today my glass was not just half empty ... it felt like its contents were being slowly tipped out.

This evening I walked into the apartment, closed the door and put my bag against it. I went into the bedroom, fell backwards onto the bed and stared at the ceiling for Idontknowhowlong . This isn't the sort of thing I would normally do. But sometimes when I am overwhelmed the feeling is quite out of body. And this was one of those times.

As I lay there, it was like I was falling backwards in very slow motion ... occasionally bumping into things with an arm or a leg ... each bump slightly contorting my body for a few seconds before it unfurled itself back onto course. 

It wasn't freedom though - it was too unsupported. It wasn't adventurous, either. In fact it felt incredibly ordinary. Ordinary and alone and with no safety net. Oddly enough it reminded me of this scene from Immortal Beloved. 

Unfortunately, I don't think I will be using this experience to write another Beethoven's Ninth. I will probably use it to create a PowerPoint presentation for a bank.

After a while I pulled myself together and went to the internet for a diagnosis. Seems like I've got multiple sclerosis. Bloody MS.

(Sandy if you're reading this ... I do remember the scene where you flashed your undies at Beethoven's father ... but were you the chick in this one as well?)