Okay, there's been a lot that's happened over the last month or so. Such as:
- Peanut turning one year old. YAYY!! HAPPY BURDAY TO YOU....We had a party, she developed terribly high temperature, we panicked, she recovered, all is fine now.
- We shifted house - finally moved out of the good old mother's home and have been setting up our own place. And yes, no internet connection at home ( apart from no time) led to the lack of posts.
- At work, it's been crazy busy - one member of my team left, but another much valued erstwhile member rejoined so it's all working out well.
- Vijay has a terribly long commute to work as a result of the shift, and right now our driver Vinod has been taking me to office - I am continuing to come back at lunchtime for Peanut and therefore, there are many car rides in the day and I have started practicing driving on these silly potholed roads. Vinod claims 'Aap bahut accha chalati hai'. When I ask him why he holds on to the handbrake until his knuckles turn white, he continues 'Aap itna accha nahin chalati, Madam. Dar lagta hai'
- I have joined the gym along with Vijay. Our 'personal trainer' looks exactly like that Upen Patel chappy - except he's shorter, stouter and darker. So maybe he doesn't look EXACTLY like him, but close enough. Either way, he seems quite determined to earn his pay. Apart from his invaluable workout advice, he perceives one of his key responsibilities to be that of switching on the 'On' button on any machine that I approach. When denied of this right by my callous, thoughtless self-switching-on-of-said-machine, he looks extremely resentful. He punishes me by suggesting that I do '5 more minutes on THIS one' and '5 more minutes on THAT one'. He has also asked me when was the last time I worked out, and made no attempt to hide his surprise when I told him that I'm into regular jogging and aerobics. Despite that, I hold no grudges against him. Vijay,after just two days of working out, is convinced that he has developed great muscles and spends at least 40% of his time in the gym flexing his muscles and admiring himself in the mirror. Another 30% is spent on making funny faces at me in the mirror and attempting to cause me to fall off the treadmill. The balance is spent on actually working out. It's all very nice.
I've run out of time. Goodbye!