"Hell hath no wrath than a woman scorned".
That pretty much defines what I felt when I learned that I
would be transferred to a different unit in three days.
I visited the room where I will be moved to. Suffice it to
say that the view painted my vocabulary red. Rest assured that I kept the
colorful words to myself. That, however, did not stop me from hours-long worth
of negotiation with the care taker and owner.
All that occupied my mind for the whole day was the
logistics. Where to move? How to get our
remaining deposit? Where to get extra cash for this sudden twist? The
internet and, of course, tons of prayers were my resolve.
In the process of scouring the web for available spaces, I
discovered a lot of virtual clutter-turned-information troves: rent-to-own
options, easy payment schemes, investment opportunities, and the like. I made
calls, talked to brokers; expanded my network.
When the day closed, the care taker called with beautiful
news. We need not move after all. False alarm.
False alarms like this one are wonderful life-shakers. What
I experienced may not be as crippling as other people's dilemmas but this
definitely moved me out of my monotony. It kicked me out of my complacency.
In my desk-bound, urban jungle-shaped life, I lack adventure.
Maybe, that's what I need next year. So go ahead, life! Alarm all you can. Like
what Claire said in Letters to Juliet, "Life is the messy bits".
Let's get soiled and mold art out of dirt!
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