till the moment i didn't drop her off at the train station in the designated 'females only' compartment, i didn't realize that she was really going. really and truly going. coming home, i felt like the last place on earth where i felt really and truly safe had just left me.so what if i was barely home? at least, at the back of my head i knew someone was looking out for me.
how do i deal with it? i stock up on Japanese movies. i become oddly anti-social. the madeeha who was barely home is now home, all the time (minus office hours). i'd watch 2-3 movies a day till i got sick of my own routine and ended up with an even more generous arse.
what i've discovered is that being home alone isn't all that it's cracked up to be. for one thing i've realised that the reasons my mum used to get pissed off at the maid for were really and truly legitimate and i find myself supervising half the housework and being 'angry' just to make sure the rest of it is done by the time i come home. i wish there was another alternative to it.
the biryani i just had on the editor's (new, totally awesome boss) recommendation is making me sleepy.
the first week at the new workplace which i was very much familiar with already, i took out ancient copies of Rolling Stone that we had lying around somewhere and compiled posters and what not and put them up everywhere. the office looks new and spurced up and the ambience is perfect for a mini-gig.
the latest addition to the office however is: the wall of shame. it's a tribute to the worst photos ever taken courtesy of GT magazine.
Begum's shoot for GT in which he/she's straightened her/his hair instead of keeping his signature curls tops it. followed by a photo of a blond (ugh) Murad Malik for a Mag interview.
the wall of shame is beyond brilliant.
