This is what the weather looks like in Singapore.
Just to make sure you understand, this is where we are right now, at this very moment.
For at least another 30 minutes.
32 °C
Just to make sure you understand, this is where we are right now, at this very moment.
For at least another 30 minutes.
32 °C
This is the weather in Belgium.
We are going there 'on holiday', and we are leaving in thirty minutes.
17°C
We are going there 'on holiday', and we are leaving in thirty minutes.
17°C
'Holiday' to me somehow means sun, beach, swimming pool, glass of bubbles, bikini, surf, sunscreen, late nights, late mornings.
Oh, wait - I have that now actually. I'm not on holiday though. Something is wrong.
I am confused.
As we fly tonight ,today was 'packing' day. I never pack up front, I try to make lists to remember what to pack. But I don't succed as I keep losing the lists. Or I will start different lists in different booklets (I have about 7 wandering around my house). In the end I give up and pack at the very last day, trying to remember what I need to bring.
It is that very last day that I spend in a kind of schizofrenic packing panic. Not completely here anymore, but also not there yet.
It's a transition stage between today 'at home here' and tomorrow 'at home there'.
Looking at that weather forecast words like vest, socks and raincoat pop into my mind.
I keep a sunny brain though and I pack t-shirts, shorts, skirts and strapless dresses.
Then my brother texts me: "bring something warmr!"
I take out a warm jumper and I happily toss it in my luggage. I still feel sunny.
Then my mother calls: "the wind is very chilly, bring something warm"
I am starting to get worried now and return to my luggage, open it up again and review everything.
I number down the t-shirts and shorts, I put some extra socks and jumpers in it.
My sunny brain is getting a bit foggy as I open up cupboards I have not been in for several months.
Where are those long trousers? Where are those long sleeves?
Somewhere down the years I decided for myself to travel light.
And it seemed a good idea to leave my warm clothes in Belgium, as I knew I would not wear them here.
The problem is I forget what I have left behind. I only notice I don't have anything 'warm' here, I have nothing to pack.
Oh, wait - I have that now actually. I'm not on holiday though. Something is wrong.
I am confused.
As we fly tonight ,today was 'packing' day. I never pack up front, I try to make lists to remember what to pack. But I don't succed as I keep losing the lists. Or I will start different lists in different booklets (I have about 7 wandering around my house). In the end I give up and pack at the very last day, trying to remember what I need to bring.
It is that very last day that I spend in a kind of schizofrenic packing panic. Not completely here anymore, but also not there yet.
It's a transition stage between today 'at home here' and tomorrow 'at home there'.
Looking at that weather forecast words like vest, socks and raincoat pop into my mind.
I keep a sunny brain though and I pack t-shirts, shorts, skirts and strapless dresses.
Then my brother texts me: "bring something warmr!"
I take out a warm jumper and I happily toss it in my luggage. I still feel sunny.
Then my mother calls: "the wind is very chilly, bring something warm"
I am starting to get worried now and return to my luggage, open it up again and review everything.
I number down the t-shirts and shorts, I put some extra socks and jumpers in it.
My sunny brain is getting a bit foggy as I open up cupboards I have not been in for several months.
Where are those long trousers? Where are those long sleeves?
Somewhere down the years I decided for myself to travel light.
And it seemed a good idea to leave my warm clothes in Belgium, as I knew I would not wear them here.
The problem is I forget what I have left behind. I only notice I don't have anything 'warm' here, I have nothing to pack.
The complete idea of traveling light has been forgotten by this time.
I feel very schizofrenic standing in my bikini, sweating even with the fan on full blast, packing socks and jumpers and long trousers.
I feel utterly ridiculous.
There might not be beach, sun or sea, but I am sure there will be bubbles, late nights and a lot of laughter in a very warm surrounding.
They called our names, we have to go. The flight is waiting for us. I am almost there, transitioned from one place to another.
My schizofrenia ends here.
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