Since we moved the office to the very heart of the town centre, I now am commuting on a public transport half of my journey to work. Kind of used to it now and once I sorted out the soundtrack of my commute - bought the coolest headphones in the world, they cut me off the outside world completely, making it bareable to be within without being a part of. The everyday's bus journey accompanied by the favourite music is a furtile soil for growing various thougths while on the move
The pics are not available on Hamipics while server is on the move. So much for the wish to get on with the travelogues. But, actually, works just as a good excuse not to, so, you know, I’m happy anyway. Sundays not my best of days. Not as bad as weekends used to be, and not as good as I’d want them. At least I managed to do things I planned to do. All apart from travel tales that is. But that can wait. In fact, that can even be waved and it will make no difference. But for now, let’s just wait. And see.
Pride is taking less than you need. I’ve heard this expression somewhere and couldn’t get rid of it from my mind. I’ve been always proud that I have my pride. Ask and you’ll be given was never my way. I believe that we are given by the others exactly what they consider us entitled to. And no more then that. Sometimes it happens to be more then we hoped we’d get, but most of the time it feels like it is less. Ask. And I stumble upon this stone again and again. Asking for me has the under-meaning of begging. I only take from you what you wish to grant to me. I want so much more from you. Is it a pride or a sacrifice to allow another to be free in their choices? Was it because of my pride that I didn’t ask X to stay or was it because I secretly hoped his choice will be different? Who we are to another, we learn when they make their choices. I thought you loved me. Yet somehow this feels only natural. I look in the mirror. I love you as a friend, but not as a woman. And I can see why. And why the same perception sticks around me as if that special aura. Because I am not “that kind of a woman” one can imagine falling in love with, I am, however, that kind of friend that one can rely on, the one that sticks around through good times and through worst times, the one with the courage to give that direct to the core straight shot, the one that remembers birthdays and dates and does not mind you not remembering them. That's not that bad in the hindsight, isn't it, better then to be a failed woman and a failed friend...This is roughly the equivalent for , say, going to a job interview and the company saying, you have a great resume, you have all the qualifications we are looking for, but we're not going to hire you. We will, however, use your resume as the basis for comparison for all other applicants. But, we're going to hire somebody who is far less qualified and probably who doesn’t care either. And if this doesn't work out, we'll hire somebody else, but still not you. In fact, we will never hire you. But we will call you from time to time to complain about the person that we hired and use your valuable advice. In a way there is something to feel good about self in that..somewhere...
These were the Monday morning commute thoughts…