Lazy is the Word

I have been trying to find a word to describe my state of being these past few months. I thought apathy might be it, because I simply can’t seem to get motivated to do several monumental tasks that need doing, like putting the winter clothes away, taking the summer ones out, de-cluttering the guest room in preparation for April visitors, or writing for this blog.

I’ve made a few starts, but they seem to splutter and die out before they get going. After much consideration, I have to admit that I just feel lazy!

Maybe it’s the fact that, speaking frankly, my husband and I are a bit disillusioned of living here, and that no matter how we manage our household, the outside world always manages to intrude in our otherwise peaceful and orderly existence. We find ourselves with increasing frequency simply staying home, never going anywhere, and seeing very few people. Even a trip to the grocery store gets deferred for another day when we can muster the forbearance to deal with the maddening traffic, the smog and the crowded shops.

Maybe it´s the fact that I am almost five months pregnant, with constant hunger accompanied by constant nausea, heartburn and a sour taste in my mouth.

Whatever the reason, I’m tired of it. There are one or two decisions we have to make in the near future, the most pressing one being whether the birth of our child will happen here in Pakistan or if I should make the considerable effort of travelling back to the United States.

It all depends on how we are treated at the American Embassy here, a prospect that, after a couple of bad experiences, fills me with trepidation and keeps hovering over my head with a somewhat unfriendly face.

Seven things I disapprove of

I am pilfering Charlotte´s post about the things she approves of, but since thirty days of daily 4-hour blackouts, -2°C weather in a country where insulation and central heating do not exist, and daily rationing of cooking fuel have left me just a tiny bit grumpy, I am writing about the things that I detest.

•  Corruption, ranging from the traffic cop who wants a hundred rupees before he lets you drive on your merry way, to the $100,000 Mercedes that nearly drove you off the road, to the 19-year-old party boy who inherits his own political party, to the total failure of a nation to provide the basic necessities to its people while not neglecting to invest in nuclear weapons that could murder millions of human beings; to the executives of international aid organizations and their expense accounts, who dine in first-class restaurants and drive the $100,000 Mercedes that nearly drove you off the road.
• Women who become politically powerful because of the men in their life. I am offended by women who, regardless of their own merits, get elected primarily because of who their fathers or their husbands were.
• Women who think of nothing but shopping.
• Landlords who think there´s nothing wrong with you heating your bath water in a saucepan in the kitchen. Water heaters do not get fixed by themselves, you know.
• Unruly children who break the toys that my daughter lovingly and carefully plays with.
• Fruit vendors who cheat and over-charge foreign women who don´t speak Urdu.
• Religious zealots (of any kind) and people who don´t keep their religion to themselves.

And one more, because I´m that grumpy:

• People who kill, who hurt others, who set fire to things that don´t belong to them, who loot, cause chaos and turn the world upside down.

The shape of my heart

Life is too dull to write about it these days. I am homesick, and I miss my family more than I can say.

I turned 36 since my last post, and while I don’t usually make a big deal out of birthdays, this one made me feel grateful for what I do have: a healthy, happy daughter, and a loving partner in life.