Why is it that what you miss about a stage in your life are things that you never ever gave a thought to when you had them?
To say I miss my previous company is putting it mildly. While I’m slowly falling in love with the new job and the new place (in that order), I miss the open spaces and all the zillion buildings and the fountains and the food courts and the coffee at subsidized rates at the Cafe Coffee Day outlets.
Which are obvious things to miss.
No, what I miss most are the heat sensor taps. They are amazing, especially in a public loo. I never realised how much till now. And the paper toilet seats.
Of course, it’s just that I am obsessing about hygiene around water again. One of the main reasons I will never ever enjoy an outing to a water park.
Another thing I am slightly unhappy about here is the necessity of using elevators. Elevators are the weirdest spaces. For the past few days, I’ve wondered about elevator etiquette at least four times in a day.
What does one do in an elevator?
You cannot look people in the eye; it’s weird, everyone looks so shiftily away when you do. You cannot smile at them, because no one smiles back; and the one person who’s caught you making that friendly gesture, smirks and tries to hide the smirk by looking at the ceiling. No one speaks or hardly ever. And if it is a mirrored elevator like the ones I use are, then everyone (as nonchalantly as they can) sucks in their tummy and tries to look dapper and trimmer than they are.
Personally, I have found solace in staring at the display. I’m also improving my counting skills but never mind that. I keep counting floors 0, 1, 2, 3, 4… till I reach my 9. And of course, few people thank the elevator attendant.
If man is a social animal, why is the human race so uncomfortable in the unique society only an elevator creates?
I miss climbing the stairs to my seat; I miss the grey decor; I miss cribbing about walking to Building 12 and from there to FC 1; I miss the zillion people who had begun to say hi and smile at me; even listening to the recorded message on people’s phones when they didn’t answer. I miss the unique smell of the studio; of taking the shortcut to Gate 6 over the water treatment plant and that earthy smell there; the grass, the flowers; the way I could stare at the sun as I walked the ramp to enter my building.
A little over two years and I’ve left so much of myself there and taken that much more from the place. Like the love of friends who are more family now.
And while all that is nice and ever so cool, I wonder why what I miss the most is the heat sensor tap in the loo there?
I now understand men who date you – often for the fun of it; dump you; and then after months, years, and centuries in a different time zone and space come back to your life begging you to give them a second chance. Often saying that they’ve finally realised they love you and miss you.
But the best thing is that you’ve always moved on. And it is usually to something or someone better.
And in the grand scheme of things, it is something much better for all concerned.
Only don’t forget to say, “Sláinte”, because there are no heat sensor taps there.
And a L’Chaim! to that thought.
P.S. Sweetydarlings, obviously, I miss you more than I miss the heat sensor taps. And well, thank god, I’m not a fickle guy. Muah.