My Outpost

That’s what it’s beginning to feel like up here, my little outpost on the second floor. I have a mirror like glass door that I can see down the hall with, the computer is password locked, and when I step outside I look down onto groups of kids just sitting at tables beneath the row of trees. I’ve been up here more and more of late, a mixture of schedule, writing, and foot pains. But Thai’s are traditionally group people, and me, living more and more by their culture I feel weird. Out of the loop. The English room is looking nicer though, new tables and drapes, even a new desk for me to type on. I know that I have been here too long though by one reason imparticular; it’s starting to look like my desk at home. Huh? Cluttered and covered with things I “need” in front of me. I wonder if my desk at home got cleaned up.
The fans mounted on the ceiling never quite reach me, and I’m anxious to leave my outpost today. The call “Conn-ah” as I looked out over the railing was warmly welcomed.