alice's peephole

Do we ever really pay attention to the safety briefing before the flight? And if we do, is it because we want to be polite to the demonstrating air staff or because we truly believe that there may be a time when we would need to recall this information and act on it, and it could save our lives? I think about this as I sit in the safety of my home, fresh after a spectacular Sunday afternoon nap, right before I sink into the pre-Monday slump. I went through my twenties not really knowing why people got so grumpy about Mondays, what a decadent privilege that was. As I watched S4 of “The Bear”, I realised that though my mother didn’t drive a car through the living room (would be tough as we live on the 10th floor), but I do share some  PTSD with Carmie. The journey of healing from the daily humiliation and berating that comes from having a narcissist, toxic boss is longer than I anticipated. In fact, I seem to have only survived because of deep, deep denial of how bad things wer...

I read that the world is changing, theatrics and chaos now trump logic. I’m told that the planets are realigning, bringing more prosperous times. I hear the winds of change at home and at work. How do we maintain our compass when everything around is moving? How do we find our North. Mediator at home and leader at work, without much credit in either role, it feels like a boat without a bottom. Tough shoes to fill, huge shadow to outshine, is it even worth the fight? No vote of confidence, campaigning without a seat, is it self worth that’s missing? A life plan in jeopardy, the wait is never ending.   And yet, there’s decks to be made, documents to be reviewed, Relationships to manage, chores to be completed. Is the busy-ness an escape, a way to fill the void? Or is it acceptance that life is not problems devoid... Is it in the moments between those milestones, Discovering a new song or great book, an evening with a friend or a call with a few, Eating t...

 I’m a lover of classic coffee. As a millennial, I cling to the quintessential South Indian filter coffee and scoff at that new fangled, pretentious, cinnamon flavoured 'Tired Bird’ dip bag coffee-like products. So, when I found this great cafe close-ish to home that does a good flat white, I quickly settled into a weekend routine, popping by there for a weekend post workout treat. It comforted me to have a favourite cafe again, after having lost Black Coffee Pharmacy in Bonn ( to the hippies ), and then Kaffeesaurus & Treibgut because I moved. The cafe has a large outdoor space, so once the oppressive heat gave way to only mild sweating and discomfort, they decided to organise a handicrafts festival in the backyard. I headed there and impulse bought some earrings and stickers, before my resolve to ‘support the arts’ gave way to grumpiness at the humidity. I found the kitchen and asked the guy manning it to make me a non-sweet, refreshing drink. It was 8 pm, so I was expecting ...