Takeoff, 13 hours.

Counting down! Everything’s packed and we are ready to rock.

Excitement? More like a quiet sense of anticipation at this point. Time to get some shuteye early, and to wake up for an early start tomorrow.

Anticipation: the close and the start.

It’s funny how quickly things end and begin sometimes.

Come March, mum’ll be here. With that, Operation SAHD comes to a close for a while. It’s been a gratifying seven months of experience, endurance and patience, without which I would be a much lesser person. Once again, I am thankful for having had the chance to grow together with Elly, and to have a shot at understanding my little girl that much more. It wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but one does one’s best even through the tough patches. Appreciation and thanks would have been good, but all I ever needed was the belief that I was doing the right thing for her.

Come March, I’ll be flying off to the States once more, this time with V. A long holiday is something we have been looking forward to, and at the same time I’m hoping to grow myself further with the opportunity to attend a C’s game as a member of the media. New learning opportunity, new growing opportunity. Gotta love life for giving fun opportunities like these.

Come April, it will be time to look for a job once more. I’m hoping to bypass the dreary interview route, so if you hear of something that could be good, please let me know. Everything is an option, literally everything. I’m not really picky on jobs, the criteria is usually no excessive OT and no overly stupid management. You can only take stupidity that far before you blow your top. It seems like a long while since I have been in a full-time job, but reality says it’s only been seven months – not too long ago. I’m sure I will not have any problems in adjusting back to full-time work, but that’s just me talking; reality could be otherwise.

Two months.

Once more, the belated realisation at that frightening pace time simply trickles by without being noticed.

It’s about two months (give or take) before I head to the States.

Hell! Doesn’t seem too far now does it? Some little odds and ends need to be arranged though, gotta get to it at the end of this month (or the beginning of the next.)

And I think it’s high time I began studying the Bobcats in greater detail, and watching more of their games.

Preparations, preparations. It’s gonna be fun, period. I wonder if V’s as excited as I am about it – probably not.

*Actually received an email about applying for media access to the All-Star Weekend in Houston. Hugely tempted, would love to go but hell if I can afford it.

Rain in Bangkok.

Today marks the first time I’ve ever been rained on in Bangkok. Not that fun apparently, since mosquitoes get an open invitation to the party and feast on my legs for all they’re worth. That, and the fact that dreary weather makes all that trudging around Chatuchak a little less fun. Interesting fact: every subsequent trip to the weekend market takes less time, because I’m less and less inclined to cover the entire area as I get older. Of course, having a sprained ankle doesn’t help in the least.

(A few other interesting blurps for the archives.)

The super cabby who got us to our destination in record time, weaving through the streets and Sois with unflappable calm. When faced with a jam, he gave a half-smile and promptly turned into the next lane. Watching him on my phone’s GPS felt like I was witnessing some computer AI easily traversing a level 0 maze – bah, too easy.

Not forgetting the thorough Thai massage at Health Land, professionalism at its peak. Where else do you find a masseur performing remedial massage on a sprained ankle with no prior notice? Full marks seriously.

And it’s the last night of my holiday at last. Good things come to an end, bad things never last forever, and time flows with the unceasing pace of an unhurried man. I’ve had a pretty good break, and may the next one be better than this.

Aside from over-whistling, constantly losing my way, an incessant refusal to use the big notes before the smaller ones, being overly focused on slipper shopping and an avid burper after meals, I think I’ve been a pretty good travel companion.

Not forgetting: thanks to the FG for not complaining (too much), her good humour and temper (most of the time) is what makes her a great friend and travel mate. I doubt we’ll get another stab at something like this ever again, so this will probably be our last trip together. May the memories last forever.

A midnight swim.

How often does one get twenty-effing-four access to a pool? Plus it’s good old sweltering Thailand, not bloody Melbourne in wintertime. So yeah, it’s just one of those little things I had to check off the bucket list: a midnight swim.

Unsurprisingly peaceful, and very surprisingly, not cold. Good time to study the stars while floating in the pool. To meditate and let the awareness expand, and to enjoy the welcome solitude.

The only three downsides to the entire brief episode:

  • A couple horsing around in the pool and disrupting the peace somewhat.
  • The dimly lit pool made it a little difficult to swim properly.
  • Mozzies.

Just another one of those little pockets of peace I’ll always hold close to my heart in years to come.

The final getaway, 2012 edition.

Ten days is what it is, and the brief holiday is coming to a close. A little getaway at Bangkok for the next couple of days, and it’s back to full-blown reality after that. I think the availability of internet access in the hotel room is going to kill the holiday spirit somewhat.

J has always been a great host on my trips here, ever the consummate foodie adviser and tour guide. He has been nothing short of spectacular today, driving us from the airport to a great dinner spot and back to the hotel after a grueling 280 km road trip earlier in the day.

Have you ever had a holiday that feels slightly unreal and dreamlike at times? Like a dream, yet it’s effing obvious this isn’t one because unlike a dream, shit happens in real life. Dream or not, I’m glad to be able to take time out like this for a few more days.

Borrowed time, I call it.