With that last cup of warm coffee...

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 Here's a recap of my day.

The contract with that clause that I had a contention with? That deal is off. 

So I was contemplating who I should contact for work. Then I realized that I was planning to take the rest of the year off. This would require me to get my other invoices cleared. One of which involves working on a portal that I can't figure out how to use. This portal has a Help section that is a study unto itself. I was so mesmerized by it. Spent a lot of time just looking through those Help pages for recreation. Doesn't say much about me, am sure. But I was fascinated. I had to call someone up to figure out that portal today but I got another email with some documents and a cryptic message, "Go through these. Then we'll talk." So I got distracted.

Then I got another message where a person I am working with asked me if I could submit something tomorrow instead of Saturday. This person has been straightforward and responsive. So of course I would oblige. 

But I still took some time to look through pictures of 'Babies of Instagram'. Babies are so cute! There are these clips of laughing babies that are such a joy! 

I am now relying on a trick I used many years ago when I had a really bad anger problem. If I am upset with someone, I imagine them as a baby. Then I don't stay as upset. If someone is not replying to a text or mail, I imagine that person to be a baby distracted by toys who falls asleep. If there's someone who is getting short with me, I imagine that person to be a baby with a nappy rash. If it's someone who wants a ton of things to be done for free, it's a greedy baby reaching for the second bottle of milk when he is still on his first.

It really works. Imagining people as babies is really what had kept me going through tough times in the past.

Speaking of imagining adults as babies, my father is really acting like one. Won't eat on time. Won't sleep on time. Today he insisted that I record some ants carrying sugar because it was so magical. He pointed out that a crystal of sugar was maybe twice the size of the ant but still the ant was carrying it. While all that miracle of life was sweet and we did have the sort of father-daughter moment could be the subject of some Iranian film, it was a little worrisome. He regarded me as quite the killjoy for wanting to clear up the spilled sugar and remove the ants. But I did record those ants to humor him. While zooming in,I  noticed the cracks on the walls. I spoke to someone to get the walls plastered and he said he will take 25k to plaster the walls of one room. At which point I thought of giving those ants tiny pails and paster to do the job themselves. They were obviously displaying great skills there.

My set of the Epigamia vegan curd with jaggery arrived and my dad and I enjoyed a cup each. Then we drove to the market for a bit. Today is Mahalaya, the day when Durga Puja preparations begin. I would have loved to go to the Kali mandir for aarti but it was closed. My father likes rasgullas so I asked him if he wanted some. He said that since I wasn't going to have any, it' was fine. And of course, since my dad said no, I just had too go and do it.

The test of my character really was to enter a sweet shop as a vegan. I love phirni. LOVE. And there were pots of it in small earthen pots garnished with a single rose petal. There were large juicy rasmallais and plump rasgullas and delectable gulab jamuns in that luxurious treacly syrup. To make myself feel better I thought I would just get some laddoos for myself. I wanted to bu a few laddoos quickly and get out and not ask too many questions because I knew that if I asked anything, the answer to that would mean that the laddoos were off-limits. And sure enough, the halwaee started waxing eloquent about the laddoos as he packed them. "Madam, asli ghee main bana hai." I tried to ignore him and then he kept pushing stuff under my nose insisting I smell the desi ghee.

I told him I could not take the laddoos if they were made of ghee because I don't take dairy or dairy products. He looked at me as I had told him I was terminally ill. He asked me if I wanted to take Tropicana juice instead. (I did, actually. I like the pineapple flavor.)

Tomorrow I had planned to go to Haji Ali for some righteous fruit and cream - the stuff I would gladly come back from the dead for. And then remembered that 'cream' is off. So I will have to give up Haji Ali fruit and cream forever. 

Nothing has hurt quite as bad. 

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