From Friday for Tuesday

Monday broke my lap-top, so I wrote the blog post for Tuesday in the old paper style.


Yesterday was packed, so no time for my blog. Today is as same, but I will take the effort and see how it progresses.
Too bad I do not remember what was it that made yesterday so busy. I remember at one point in the late afternoon I was laying down on the couch and my body wanted me to stand up, and do some work, the dishes, a lunch. Anything, something.

But I have had the flat cleaned, and I had had beans soup ready from yesterday. The heater went on, and bippity boppity boo: warm lunch for three, in a sec. I get to realize that having lunch prepared on weekends is a great tip, especially when you make soup – they do not dry in the fridge.

I might have been tired from the gym, anyway, I spent the afternoon laying on the couch and staring at my son`a cow`s eyes while he stared at Cars. He had chickenpox for the last two weeks, and got addicted to this cartoon. He watched it five times in a row per a day when he was ill, and got sad each time the cartoon world had finished, and euphoric with every new beginning of it, always insisting for more. The addiction should stop anytime soon, we are gradually taking him off of it, and it is already working.

In general Monday was a fine day. At one point I doubted my idea of quitting school when I went to the computer lab and saw that it is a final day to enroll for the next semester. I took courage and I did what I had to do, I hope. I stared at the monitor terrified, telling myself that I cannot stay in school only because I feel comfortable there. The self addressed remarks were echoing in my mind:


I am not born to become a teacher one day, I heard myself thinking, I am born to become all the other things I want in life. Look at the old guy that sets next to me, I talked to myself.  He is in school, he is a medical doctor that is obtaining a degree in history.

Funny, in the same chair, there was another old man a month ago. He was a poet, and when I met him, I asked him about his name. Instead of telling it, he googled himself for me. Pictures from him featured on the monitor, he had written, he said 34 books of poetry. On many of the pictures from him on google, as same as in person, he wore a scarf made out of an textile that does not keep one warm. Luckily, he had a fertile beard to keep him warm in the winters of this cold country. He was writing a thesis in philosophy on spirituality. “What is this thing called spirit?” He asked me when he presented his research topic to me.

His mentor died on the day he submitted the thesis, I have not seen him ever since, but I do hope so that he got a grade for it, a good grade, from somebody else; and that this event will become even more fertile from his beard, spring of inspiration for the poems that are waiting to be told. He was a good guy, his desk was overloaded with books. I like people that love books.

I wonder now, why the new old guy does history after practicing medicine for all of his career. Why did he graduated in medicine at all, did somebody make him? Maybe his father was a doctor with a private practice, and he as an only son in the family, maybe, had to inherit the clinic. Or maybe, he is like me, a man with a full bucket of ideas, and final goal – to realize all of them.


Dear Mon,

I am writing to you from Friday. How are you? 🙂 Just kidding, I know how were you.
You broke my lap top.
I am sorry to accuse you, but let`s be honest, you do have quite a bad reputation out there.

At least I made it to the crossfit session – that’s good. Thank you for that. You also forced me out of a grumpy mood. Remember, that nice lady I saw from the previous seasons` classes, for which I decided that there is no need to say “hi” to her, and then when she approached me; ha, ha, that was cool from her, right? She`s a cool lady, I hope to see her again.

You did well for the rest of the day, as well. I successfully arranged the meeting for Tuesday, but I have no recollection of the afternoon. Well, c`est la vie. See you in two days. Have something fabulous in store for me, wink, wink.

I will become all I want, just watch me.

samsung_NOV_2015 309This is hilarious, did I figure out my life-on-a-crossroad dilemma in two days? I mean it has been bothering me for quite a while now, so this blog was meant to help, but really, with two posts? Was the blog the main ingredient for the cure?

I am in love with this Sunday afternoon. It’s all clear, I feel so alive. I can see my future, and it’s exciting. It’s super exciting. On top of it, I would not have to give up on too many things that I want to do in my life as I thought that I will have to because they are simply too much. I have too many ideas, too many hobbies that fight for their place in my professional  life, but not anymore. I figured it out. I will do everything that I want and write about it, because writing is the thing that I enjoy doing the most.

All I have to do, all I should have done untill now was to reschedule the PhD. Who said that I have to do it right away? It can wait for some years. I can do it when I’ll have my second child, when I’ll know English much better, when I’ll feel rested.

Notes to self: Be thankful to Husband, he Rules!

Do not work after work, be with your family.

Stay fit.
Dress nicely.
Have red intimidating lipstick.

Do not give up on minimalism, friends, this blog and the other language.

Wish you a good Sunny Sunday.

“Being present, whether with children, with friends, or even with oneself, is always hard work. But isn’t this attentiveness — the feeling that someone is trying to think about us — something we want more than praise?”  Stephen Grosz.



How Far with Minimalism You Can Go?

It’s Saturday,
The few towels that our three member’s family owns are dirty in the huge pale of laundry in the corner of the bathroom.
The six plates that we own are in the sink, sinking in a warm water. CLEAN US, CLEAN US!
As soon as I finish with writing this blog entry, as part of my daily practice of English, I will go and do them. I’ll DO IT, I’ll DO IT!

When I’ll finish with the dishes, I’ll collect my son’s few toys that are all around the apartment. (I wonder if he positioned them strategically all around the flat,to mark his territory and make us to not forget him while he is sleeping). They are so few, yet everywhere. What was that word I learned just recently? Ubiquitous.
My son’s toys are the guardians of our flat-galaxy.

It sounds like I could have finished my chores for the time needed to report my duties in this blog. Of course I could have done it,and I would have been SUPER wrong. Because of ideas like this one, I have stopped doing the thing that injects life in my veins. Writing.

Chores can wait, I will finish and publish this even if I have to go in a swimsuit to the opening of my friend’s exhibition which is in two hours from now.

Though, the swimsuit is dirty in the pale of laundry mentioned above, as well – so that is out of option.

Naturally, now, I wonder whether it was a right decision to get rid from things, and live a life as minimalists.

The reality is this, when there are no clean towels, I reach for my husband’s t-shirt to dry myself. Now, he is minus one t – shirt, and the balance is ruined.
Then, when we are out of plates, we use the huge salad bowl to place few pickles in it when we eat dinner. On the end of the meals, after eating an omelet, the kitchen looks like I just prepared a meal for a food bank. All of the biggest pots are outside, used. For the omelet.

When it comes to get rid of clothing that you don’t use: I am down to few clothing combinations, that at this point if I wear my red jacket once again to a public event, which of course will appear on Facebook, my friends will start sending clothing donations to me.

And so what if the apartment can be organized in 30 minutes when my brain is cluttered with ideas, things to do, questions, titles of books that I want to read, stories that I want to write, movies I want to see, articles I need to read. Which PhD program to choose? What to wear to the event of my friend?

Time to get ready, it looks like the red jacket will be, I’ll change the make up, oh shoot, I have only one leap stick.

4 hours after this post I ma researching on getting rid of tings, strangely I feel like I need to get rid from even more. Is there a thing where you can go to the extremes of being minimalist? Like an addict?

Anyways, here are the most useful texts I found on the net:

Living Simply: The Ultimate Guide to Conquering Your Clutter

The Life Cycle of a Minimalist

9 Lies that Keep Our Schedules Overwhelmed

“When I grow up I want to be a hairdresser by day and a flight attendant by night”

That’s what the ten years old me said to the teacher when she asked at class what we want to be when we grow up?
My classmates were stoned when I listed hairdresser as my daytime job. Apparently it wasn’t ambitious enough.
“Why not, it pays the bills,” the teacher said.
I remember that most of my classmates, on that class, listed some boring to me professions including the most desirable one by them: teacher.
Today, twenty three years later, only one out of twenty five of these teacher-wanna-be kids, had become one(Thanks Facebook).
Their collective disrespect for my choice for my future daytime job made me ponder over the origin of my choice.
Over the years, I arrived to the following conclusion: The ten years old me, was (and still I am) fascinated by change.
Beck in the days, I differently imagined the sky trafficking mobility. I thought people travel only to move, to reside somewhere else for good, and in my mind it was always to somewhere better, toward something better.
I imagined myself serving worm coffee to passengers in a plane. The passengers had fervent look on their faces, excited for their future. Their better future. In the plane they were people without a past, (they just had left it behind), and freed from it they were about to step into a new things. Better things.
The same with the hairdresser profession. People would have come with their old self, get new hear, and leave the saloon changed, for better. Oh, that self-satisfied look in the mirror on the end. Everything would be better for them after that.
Surprisingly, Facebook says that six of my schoolmates actually had become hairdressers – the profession that they strongly discarded back then. I didn’t become one though, nor I become a flight attendant, I am still struggling to choose one path, and keep to it, (I hope this blog would help me with that). And so, because they had become what I wanted for myself, I wonder what was their reasoning behind it? I wonder if someday in the future I would have the chance to ask them.