solace

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The mild nagging fever continues. Physical malaise. Mental ennui. Lucy’swonderful Godmama took her off my hands this morning, so I could rest. She loves her Godma. But for me, it felt strange to see her ride off in the car, looking at me through the glass window, as I waved a cheerful goodbye. Don’t get me wrong, I was quite happy and grateful, even relieved, that my lovely friend was willing to bring her along on an outing. I could get some guilt-free sleep. But we are seldom ever parted, and it just felt surreal.

After watching the car drive off, I popped into the IGA shop for something to drink. I was getting really tired of the taste of tea and honey. I picked up a tetrapak of Ribena – it was on special, and I just felt like something familiar. Back home, I was hungry. Even after a very full breakfast of nasty bacon and egg cooked in the microwave roast/grill pot, just two hours before. Mentally locked inside my own budget-fears, I tried to create a meal out of leftovers. I just couldn’t face any more bacon, so I made rice biscuits from the leftover rice I had in the fridge. Just rice, an egg, some herbs and salt for flavouring and sesame oil. They actually turned out rather tasty, but for some unknown reason, my taste buds flipped the switch yet again, and decided to reject it.

I’ve had an underlying hankering for ‘home-food’ for some time now, but the Ribena just wasn’t enough to quell this illogical craving. So, when my senses began to rebel against the rice biscuits, I gave in and blew a lordly $12 for an order of crispy noodles from the Mamak Village cafe nearby. It was a huge portion – I started with just half (in photo) but the indomitable urge to keep eating took over and I finished the rest as well. Not the absolute Real McCoy, but a rather tasty one nevertheless. It was familiar enough, and I needed to find some sensory solace.

It has been a long and arduous adventure of one complex socio-relational mishap after another, and immense financial stress. I loved that old house, I spent a great deal of time, money and energy sprucing it up, and I am sorry it didn’t work out the way I’d dreamed for, but I know, it is time to let go and walk away. The pressure was killing me, and even Lucy. I have been wondering about the super sensitive nature of Greyhound digestion yet again. My girl seems to be quite the Princess in this respect. Since moving in to our new abode, her poop has been consistently good. No more runny poop mysteries. And I have not changed much in the way of her diet. It must have been the stress she suffered, living in that house, or a combination of my stress and her own. I shall never know for sure, but I am glad she is doing well here. I hope I shall, too.

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