Breakfast time this morning. Not the most razor-sharp period of the day for me, but still …

Coffee arrives. I’m distracted, writing three new stories in my head, planning for forthcoming guest arrivals, tossing around a few ideas for graphics, thinking about the best approach to edit a recent photo-shoot, mentally composing a business letter for my protege, and working out how best to modify a pdf document and convert it back to pdf. And about all the other stuff that forms the chaotic detritus of my life.

The meal arrives before I have a chance to over-sugar my coffee, and, staring at my food while still engrossed in my Walter Mitty world, I reach for the pepper grinder – and sprinkle a liberal dose into my cappuccino.



The staff stare at me – ampun deh! What in hell is the bule gila doing NOW? – and I am tempted to claim that I meant to do it. I am beyond status nowadays, or trying to make myself look good, so I just shrug and explain “saya pikun”, and take a sip before their horrified gaze. Didn’t taste all that bad, actually.

I used to be able to multi-task in my sleep, maybe it’s time to start concentrating. The mind is obviously going. It’s just that I have no idea where …


* by Vit Karazija

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