New Job is going okay,
But there are one or two unexpected consequences.
I have developed an uncharacteristic aversion to anything tamasic. Food that isn't Seriously Fresh, dirt on the front of the washing machine, ooky dishes, dog hair on the floor. I can't bear it, I must clean it immediately. Everything must be clean, yo, before Shushu can relax. My yogic commitment to non-violence is null and void when it comes to flies in the house. If the dog leaves the back door open one more time and lets the flies in, I'm going to have him adopted.
I can only eat very simple food, and not a lot of it. If I wasn't a vegetarian before this, I sure as Hell would be by now. At the risk of sounding judgemental, meat and death are closely connected, folks, and that's a simple fact. I am not a Moralising Vegetarian, in fact I fall into the category of Embarrassed Vegetarian, but my digestive system is currently marching the streets, arm in arm with Chrissie Hynde, chanting "Meat is murder!" and not a thing to be done about it. The smell of meat cooking (and I cook meat for my dog every night) has me outside so fast you'd swear I had magical powers. Or was pregnant. Which I am not.
I shower often. And wash and sanitise my clothes scrupulously. Especially my work clothes.
My mother would be delighted....
