remind me, how old am I?

i hate partings.

not the one's in your hair, but the tata types.

so naturally these days i'm a bit down and out. and when i start to pms, that will become an understatement.

but, the thing is, the man I'm mad about, who will henceforth be referred to as MIAMA on this blog is going to climb a mountain. He's going to be gone for three weeks. Minimum.

To a neighbouring country, where the flights are dicey and telecommunication is not very good, unless he carries a satellite phone. or a homing pigeon.

So I'm not going to see his mug every morning and evening. I'm not going to sleep knowing that he's right beside me. And I'm not going to be able to call him any time I feel like.

I'm happy he's going. Because we must all do our thing that gives us joy. But I am, though I'm trying not to, a little worried.

Then there's the car I'm mad about (CIAMA!) . It's been with me for seven years. And I'm in a serious committed relationship with it. But now, it's sounding wierd. After the last servicing, the engine doesn't sound like it used to. They changed the horn, and I can hardly recognise the sound. And now I know it has to go.

And then to top it all, this morning, when I'm driving to work, the damn FM station decides to play sad love songs. The depressing mopey kinds.

Darn. I really need to get my big girl underwear out.