The finger of blame has turned upon itself

It has been one of those days, a day steeped in silence. I look out of the window and realise that the workmen, who i ponder over everyday as my desk faces the window, have left for the day. The construction site is empty. The noise from the heater, my typing and the engines of random cars below are the only sounds that surround me. I look at the apartment block in the next suburb and notice the lights on in certain homes. It's past five thirty in the evening. I have finished one reading and have another to complete tonight. Then, a lesson to plan for my tutorials on Wednesday. An effort to make sociology mildly interesting to first year students who just wish to pass so they can move on to the next phase of life. But that is a blanket statement. There are some who are there for the pure thrill of knowing more and understanding that the world is not as it seems. There is hair everywhere. On the floor, on my bed, in the fridge. Everywhere i turn, i come across yet another strand of hair. The mess on my head makes me feel out of control. I feel that maybe if i get my hair cut, a semblance of order will start to permeate my life. How many more days of living out of a suitcase, i wonder to myself. How many afternoons of cooking in a kitchen filled with unfamilar utensils? How many more nights of sleeping in a bed that is not mine? It doesn't seem fair. But then again, what is fair? I feel guilty for complaining when there is a roof over my head and stacks of food on the table. It's not convenient, i say. But maybe it's time to throw convenience out of the window. My life has never been convenient. And i'm still standing. Another hundred things on this week's to-do list. What should i start with- Finish a chapter of my thesis? Start on my conference paper? Figure out what i'm going to submit for peer critique next month? Apply for funding? Fill in the sheet with hours worked in the last fortnight? Prepare a lesson? Look for a house on real estate sites? Walk to church to collect a CD? Head to the bank to pay for my flight tickets back to Singapore for Christmas? Worry about visa extensions and all that jazz? Make another cup of tea? There is no routine. No order. Only days spent walking and doing. How did this happen? Was it a bad decision i made months ago? Was it the disabled man i ignored as i walked my merry way along the tunnel? Was it thinking that God had forgotten me? I don't know. All i do know is that it's time for all of this to end; for some peace to be restored in this dwelling my soul resides in. It's time to stare at my reflection, fess up to mistakes, forgive myself and walk on knowing that nothing is certain apart from God.