fast forward

It is Sunday morning. I leave on Wednesday morning. That gives me about 3 days to get my shit in order. I am mostly done and good thing too. Today is filled up with kids parties and the like. Tomorrow I work full day and will no doubt be spending most of it explaining where all my stuff is so the other ladies can find it when they need it. Tuesday is a half day, but I have to run around to the bank and grab things I don't yet have for the voyage. (This is a self-note to remember to find the electrical converter so I can charge my phone.)

But you see, as happy as I am to go home, I can't seem to get everything altogether for some reason. It could be that I am working a lot on my books lately and started going to the gym again. It could be that work has been completely chaotic and I can barely find a minute to think. Or it could just be, that in many ways, I don't believe I am going. I really just cannot believe it. Josie said she wouldn't believe it until she saw me, so I sent her my flight itinerary from the airline's website - with a whole bunch of CONFIRMEDs next to each flight - and she started to believe (clap your hands if you believe in fairies). Its like I've just realised that life doesn't stop on either side of the ocean if I am not there. In theory I know this, I know that people go on living without me, but I like to think I hold some universal remote that I can press pause on when I leave a place.

Last night I had a collision of worlds and it sent me reeling. First, my housekeeper came in with a handbag she had found tossed by the side of the road. The strap had been cut, but most of the contents (less, one must assume, the cash) were inside. We located the name and number of the person who owned the bag and phoned. She would come and collect. When she arrived with two other folks, we heard the sad story, they had been held up at gun point at zoo lake. Even I wouldn't go for a walk around zoo lake without one of the dogs, I might go into the bowling club or sit down at Moyo, but I wouldn't go walking around the pond that they call a lake without the dogs, c'mon. The lady was distraught, wouldn't you be? And then my house keeper got in the car with them to show them where she had found the bag. What a tough world this can be...

A few minutes after this happened (which, I'll be honest, I didn't completely have the headspace for), I called Holly. I'm at Kelly's shower, wanna talk to her? Yeah, gimme the phone. Ahhhh and ahhhh and ahhhh and what are you doing next Friday? Ahhhh. She hands the phone back to Holly. Wanna talk to another mystery guest? Yeah, who? Just talk... Kat - omigod! Ahhhh ahhhh ahhhh. Where are you, what do you do? You have kids? You have kids? You live in Chicago? You live in South Africa? Ahhhh ahhhh. When do you go back to Chicago? Tomorrow. Damn... This was an interaction I had the headspace for, but couldn't believe as much as I could believe someone getting robbed at gunpoint at Zoo Lake. Wierd. I hauled out an old photo album with some pics from Kent days and the times my peeps would all come down to go out dancing at some totally crappy nightclub. Then Holly's email came in listing names of people I went to elementary school with - married, kids - oh and this one - married, kids. Holy cow, my pause button doesn't work at all.

And that my friends is why I HAVE TO GO HOME. Because you aren't all sitting around in a vacuum waiting for me to let you out. Things change, construction happens. And when a good chunk of my heart is spread out over there, sometimes, I just have to check on those pieces so I can feel whole again. And I don't have long to go until I am on the plane, but I'll tell you, I would use the fast forward button if I could find it. And if I could find it, then I would know where that pause button is as well and that means I wouldn't have to spend any time getting stuff in order here, cause I would only press play when I got back.