Hot and Sticky

It’s hot and sticky in Cambodia right now. Twenty seven degrees at five in the morning and set to rise with the sun. When I lived in Britain I constantly craved the sun and the light. It’s warmth was rare and precious and I wanted to bathe in its golden glory.  

How I of all people ended up in these climes is one of those bizarre accidents. The Asperger Path is currently being planned with a haphazard carelessness that is a source of much joy. Before I came away, life had become a series of well executed tasks done without thought on a tight schedule. Waking at six and catching a bus at seven so that the gym could be visited and work commenced by eight. I was awake but there was no time to smell the coffee. It was gulped. A reverse procedure at the end of the working day delivered me fed, fed up and tired on the sofa by seven.  My life in the rat race needed few decisions as the routine was followed doggedly and variations could cause a tailspin of indecision. As one grey week would end, another would loom and the weekend would evaporate. Golden moments were grasped before Monday arrived and the self imposed routine took hold of me again. 

So here I am. I have escaped myself and I am meandering on the road to nowhere. Cambodia is as good a place as any to stop and smell the coffee. My life is less structured because everything  is different here. I am different here.  I will move on one day but for now my life is like the chilli sauce the old lady sells outside the Chinese school. It is hot and sticky but it’s so sweet. 

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