writing for self-discovery

The frogs kept me awake last night. When the sky brightened, hinting at morning, I got up, groggy, thinking maybe I would skip yoga. But force of habit had me dressed in racer bra and thigh-hugging bottoms before my logical mind kicked in. At that point it was easier to do the routine than to change clothes.

Afterwards, clear, focused, I made a list.

But first, a bit of historical data to bring you up to date…

So, back to the list. It was short:

Perhaps you’ve noted that the first three are consumable. All of my lists to date have been items I can eat, wear, or burn. So what, might you ask, and rightly so, is DESK doing on the list?

It’s complicated. Actually, it’s embarrassingly simple. I love furniture. I’m renting a house that is fully furnished but has no desk. I wanted a desk. I could picture it and the more space it took up in my head the more I wanted to own it.

I spoke to Ketut. He offered to have his brother make one. That’s my life here. It’s like having a magic lamp with a genie that grants my every wish. And that would have been fine, but the newer pieces of furniture in the house have a whitewashed finish. I’m fond of that finish. Ketut’s brother only does brown. I asked Ketut if he knew where this furniture came from. “Andong,” he said, and off we went.

The first three shops had nice stuff but no desks. The 4th place had two, one with a carved top that was oh-so-cute, but completely impractical. Then Ketut saw the second one; no carving, but two handy drawers in the front, perfect size, adorable!

There was a sticker with the price on it. “Old price,” the shop owner said. “Now 150,000 rph.” I mentally did the math. That’s $14. The old price was $11. We negotiated and I got it for the old price. I know, I know…a solid wood, adorable desk with 2 drawers in a whitewashed finish for $11. Don’t hate me.

While I was gearing up my best Indonesian to negotiate a delivery, Ketut picked up the desk, carried it out to the motorbike, and said, “Take now.” I must have had that “You’ve got to be you-know-whating me” look on my face because he gave me his biggest, thoothiest grin, and said, “In middle possible.”

I just want you to know that I have now, officially, crossed over. I have transported a fairly large piece of furniture through central Ubud, riding across my lap, hanging out perilously on both sides, on the back of a motorbike. And the scariest of all…it seemed like the logical thing to do!