As I was complaining in one of my previous posts about having to wake up on a Friday, I had to wake up in the same (extreme I would say) conditions on Monday.

So I make it to work. I drink half of my coffee after having to be nice to people, I get into a meeting, forget my coffee on my desk. I survive the meeting, did not say one stupid word (clapping to myself, yey) – open my inbox – still forget about that coffee.

I remember I have an appointment at my psychiatrist at 5:30. Why the hell I have even accepted this time on a Monday?

Oh, well. The rain, wind, whatever ( well, not in the office but you get the drill, still have to complain about it) continues for the rest of the day. I am stressed I won’t make it to my appointment.

Hope by now that you got over the fact I have a psychiatrist, I manage to finish everything (pretty much) ahead of time and I run to my appointment. I even get there on time. I sat in the waiting room about a good 15 minutes.

There is another person entering the room, I look up and I know I must have messed the hour again. No, this would not be a first. This guy looks at me and he says convinced (in trueness) that his appointment is 5:45. Oh well, I take out my agenda (which I have to avoid this kind of situations), I look it up and of course I have arrived a week earlier. By now I keep thinking how to deliver the news to this person that he’s right and not look completely idiotic. Too late anyway, and on top of everything, he looks familiar.

Obviously I don’t remember his face but it triggers me that he looks embarrassed. Well buddy, that makes two of us. At least you don’t have Alzheimer’s, you are probably “just” depressed.

My therapist gets out, she sees me and starts laughing when I already tell her that I know I arrived a bit too early. She apologised- I don’t know why, maybe because she felt sorry for me, I wish her a great week and run out the door.

Few minutes out, I realise that the guy in the waiting area is one of the clients of the agency I work for. We had a meeting not long ago.

I now have this app to exercise memory. Good luck to me.

Namaste. It stopped raining while I was inside.

I was at a dinner table with some strangers that they we’re trying their best to please me. The rabbit was prepared in special occasions – I was told – and it was a delicacy around these places. It might be I thought, but then again, also my grandfather thought the same, I did not share his opinion.

So, I was faced with the big white (fancy) plate full of the fine delicacy, cooked at the best. It had some salad leafs around. I am sure that must of been other things on that table but I don’t remember much. I only remember the immaculate dinner table with the perfect aligned cutlery and plates. With the neat white serviettes complementing the whole arrangement.

I did not know how to react to the ”surprise”. For them I was the poor, inexperienced and under fed ”child” coming from a third world. Offering me this rabbit feast must of been a delight they thought. Except it wasn’t. The smell churn off my stomach and I was smiling trying to explain in my best Italian that I can’t eat this. Yes, we do eat it in my country too, except that I don’t. I can’t eat rabbits. They are rather partners to play with and not a meal to me.

I was finally given some pasta. At least this I could eat. They still could not get over the shock that I refused their delicious rabbit.

After dinner I watched loud Italian tv. If you don’t know Italian tv, oh well, I can tell you it’s a delight. I just wanted to go to sleep so after all that dinner fuss now they had to accept I cannot entertain them.

I was showed my room – an equally sterile bedroom, with sheets so perfect, that I was afraid not to ruin them. I tried to go to sleep, yet it was very difficult. Why I was even here? Oh yes, I was trying to please my mum. These people are remarkable and helped me a lot in my journey here. You will see, they are nice people and you will like them. One dinner won’t kill you. And, really, they are like family. Not my family, I thought.

Yes, it was embarrassing and for some reason I felt that it was under my dignity to be there and pretend all that circus. Like, I was a circus monkey they we’re dying to see. Except I wasn’t, I could not ever accept this role.

Ți s- a întâmplat vreodată să îți vezi reflexia in vreo vitrină oarecare si sa nu te recunoști? Mergeam pe străzi necunoscute si ușor ostile, priveam cu mirare si curiozitatea obișnuita: cine sunt oamenii aceștia? Ce povesti uimitoare ascund ei? Care este ritualul lor zilnic? De ce sunt aici si nu in alta parte?

Am văzut o față intr- un geam. Cine o fi ea? M- am întrebat. Undeva, vag si de foarte departe îmi părea cunoscuta. Si totuși, nu o cunosteam. M- am oprit brusc si am mai privit odata. Să fiu sigura ca nu trec fără sa o salut. Gafe din astea fac mereu. Ea mă privea insistent si ceva m- a făcut să îi zâmbesc. Câteodată oamenii au nevoie de un zâmbet. E îndeajuns. Straina mi- a zâmbit timid înapoi. Părea ca totuși o cunosc.

Nu, persoana asta din vitrina nu o cunosc. E doar o reflexie a unei stări. Mi-am continuat periplul in necunoscut, fără a înceta sa mă gândesc unde am mai văzut-o.

I left Romania in September 2007 for a six months internship abroad. Like a forever ago. It’s been almost twelve years and I still cannot believe that twelve years have passed.

It was exactly one year after my graduation. I couldn’t find a job, or rather was doing all kind of jobs that we’re not what I believed would be. I thought back then, that life and the world must be more than that. I had no idea what I am doing. I never imagined that would be more than six months. I was reckless and fearless and I believed that I am the strongest person I know. I believed I could reach the clouds and the clouds would lift me.

I discovered a much different world that I imagined. At first it felt wonderful and full of possibilities. Later on, it was frightening and scary.

I am no longer that person. I’ve come to know myself better. To recognize my flaws and my weakest points. Looking back, I am not sure I would be so courageous anymore. I traveled in places I could never imagined I would. I feel lucky and blessed and most of all grateful for all the amazing life experiences and for the strength I acquired during this time.

I’ve been at the lowest points ( though, never say never) and I reached a high degree of integrity and understanding of myself and a better understanding of the world. There is so much more out there to learn and grasp – about humans and about our condition, I feel blessed to have arrived here. In this very point.

Twelve years of crazy, uncertainty, confusion, not belonging and still trying to get there. My modest upbringing and a high degree of self preservation helped me avoid trouble and keep the right path or the best I could think of. My instincts never lied to me. I often tried to ignore them, turns out, whenever I did ignore it, that caused me some serious issues.

I am in a really different place I thought I would be by now. That’s the beauty with life, it’s fucking unpredictable. I would do it all the same shall I have the chance to start from that point again? Probably yes, I would take more challenges, I would be even braver, I would not look back in the past so much.Doubt often stopped me from doing more. Or being more.

I left doubt in that drawer now. I can still move mountains and I will never let doubt or fear stop me.

As a dear good friend once told me: if its overwhelming, think of it like that: these shoes are yours and are a bit bigger but as you move along you will end up filling those shoes. Those shoes will perfectly fit you at some point. Yes, that turned out to be true. My feet are still a bit small, but I’ll be damned – I am so close to fit them perfectly.

I am grateful for all the people coming my way. Every single one taught me a hell of a lesson. This is not an exaggeration. Some gave me a good shake to wake up, some have been or still are good friends and some teached me what was needed and they are gone.

Life is not like a box of chocolate. Life is a god damn store full of chocolate. True, sometimes too much chocolate makes me sick. I still eat like there is no tomorrow. Like my grandma would say: I am eating like a gypsy, like I never know when I’ll get some more, so I eat it all at once.

I often wonder what would have happened if I never left. I guess I will never know. Next time, I’ll take that opportunity to Afghanistan or Burma. Or whatever place on Earth will be. Next time, I’ll be better. And braver. I will keep you posted, I know you all want to know. 😉

Namaste