survivor

It's funny how we get attached to things - a mobile phone that can reach family and friends, a favorite pen that makes your signature look perfect, or a worn-out shoe that still feels comfy after a thousand miles. I've cleaned out my desk at work and emptied my drawers, but have put off handing over my computer, chair, and table to my replacement -- yes I am probably in denial.

For the past 2 1/2 years, my computer has been my faithful friend and my virtual link to the outside world. It has been my sole witness and companion to the madness of my stay here - how, instead of bursting into tears or staging a solo walk out, I hammered into my keyboard all the insults, curse words, and ill wishes that I could not say. Despite being here physically, my mind and spirit have really been elsewhere, much like Hermione (in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban) - and my computer and phone line have been my magic compass to take me there. My little corner at work has been a refuge of sorts - in here I have zoned out the words I wish I did not hear and the thoughts I did not want to entertain. Somehow, in this little space I call my domain, I have held on to who I was before I came here.

Now my bulletin board is empty, Post-Its stashed away, drawers empty, and CDs gone. As I turn over my table, delete my files, and change my passwords, my Bangkok chapter slowly draws to a close - by Monday I'll be sitting in a makeshift desk that doubles as a paper station, with a computer whose sole purpose is to go online.

I survived Bangkok.