No bones provided

There is a direct co-relation to me being here and me being essentially underachieving. I seem to be able to encounter days with haze and glide through them, getting absolutely nothing done- at least not in my usual uber efficient way. My thoughts are running a mile a minute and I cannot even finish a magazine.

I have to clean. I have to cook some tasteless pre-packaged food. I have to go for a ride. I have to organize and upload some more photos. I have to re-visit my thesis. I have to bathe. I have to moisturize my dry skin that itches with eczema. I have to unpack my bags. I have to figure out how to get $17 to deposit into the bank by Monday to save myself the embarrassment of a bounced cheque. I have to figure out how I will survive on no cash until an elusive pay day. I have to do my accounts. I have to go to the ABM to check to see if there could possibly be a nook in my accounts that I may have tucked some cash in and forgotten about. I have to call back Daddy. I have to call Uncle Roger. I have to call Aunty Gem. I have to go pick up the estimate for car repairs. I have to search for the colour code of my blue-purple car. I have to fill out the insurance claim sheet. I have to fax all documents to the insurance brokers. I have to go and pick up food from the Jamaican restaurant for today and tomorrow. I have to clean the fridge so that I can store the food because even though I cleaned it before I left, I forgot to leave the doors open. I have to bathe in stinky water. I have to read all the books I brought back. I have to write. So why is it that they only thing I want to do is to go back to bed?

I guess that is why I have managed to put on so much weight since I have been here. I have been too depressed to do anything at all. I have great intentions and enough motivation, but there is a disconnect between the first two and simple implementation. I was so bubbly and up and down and always on the go on my vacation, and now, I am back to being a big blob of nothing.

Really, how can one place drain one's spirit so quickly? I haven't even taken my camera out of the bag. I have these very short bursts of interest and energy... but they last what seems like nano seconds.

I cant open windows and doors because it means letting in even more sand and mice in addition to the light and air that everybody needs for health.

I am beginning to see that places, like people have spirits. And just like how peoples' spirits may not take to each other, they may also not take to a place and vice versa.

I guess it's the same reason why you can land in a country or village and think immediately "I could live here," or "There is no way in hell that I could live here." The land either agrees with you or it fiercely disagrees. There is no middle ground or indifference. But even that would be better than what I am facing.

This place is just not healthy for me. I have too many emotional, spiritual and physical roadblocks. This place causes cancer of the spirit.

I like to move. So why am I so damn sedentary? I must get out.