My 101 set goals in 1001 days

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Every time I plan to do something at home I end up not doing it until a day later or lately even until days or weeks later. In any case, not on the day I planned to do it in the first time. This bothers me and I have tried relentlessly to change it. I hate not having energy to do the things I intend to do when I intend to do them. Especially since I only seem to have this problem at home. At any other place I’m bursting of energy, except at home. Like I said, it bothers me but that was until last week. Last week I planned to re-organize the content of my suitcase. I ended up doing it the next day. Now usually I would have dropped everything on the day planned to do the specific chore and I would have sat or laid on the couch looking all dopey for hours and hours at the television screen, only getting up to eat or go to the toilet. Eventually nighttime would arrive and I would go to bed feeling frustrated at myself and blaming myself for being this lazy. Not this time. This time I realized I can try to fight my lack of energy or I can embrace the fact that I in fact am someone who does procrastinate…a lot. And so I did. On the specific day, I kept in the back of my mind that I had intended to re-organize my suitcase but I knew I wasn’t gonna do it and I accepted that. This time I didn’t drop everything and sat apathetically. I just went on doing my thing, accepting the fact that I wasn’t gonna do what I set out to do. I knew I would do it eventually and that was fine with me. The reassurance that it was going to get done eventually was enough to give me peace of mind. That night I went to bed not frustrated but smiling and the next day I re-organized my suitcase.

I realized ti is less stressfull if I just accept that procrastination is part of my way of life. I may not get things done when I plan to but I get them done when I need to. And for once I am fine with that.

I wonder if I should feel guilty towards the immigrants at work. You know the incarcerated ones? I mean, I’m an immigrant too for now, so should I be locked up with them? Of course being an immigrant is just one amongst many other wrongly reasons why they are incarcerated. So I guess I’m good, for now. Still, I am a bit worried for how long I will stay safely on the free side of the gate. With that thought in the back of my mind I went straightly to the desk of the Immigration Naturalization Service and tried to apply for the registritation of being a legal inhabitant of Bonaire. I tried, without luck. Apparently to enter an application you need to have an appointment. And the nearest possible appointment was a week later. I think you can imagine the look on my face. Nope? I’ll help you out, I went like this: A week from now?! To simply turn in some papers?! The same papers I have with me right now?! *Sigh* Even typing it right now, I can feel the adrenaline running through my veins all over again. I am not the yelling type, not at all. Usually I keep my pose, but not this time. And the worst part of it is, this lady behind the desk wasn’t even impressed. When I told her I would have to check in with work on whether I would be able to make it to the appointment during office hours, she just calmly and in a sassy voice replied that if I couldn’t make it, that well then the appointment would simply be postponed to even later. So away I went. With my lips curled up I managed to at least put on a polite smile and wish the lady a nice day.

A week later I went in, right on time for my appointment. I handed in the papers and with that I had applied for the citizenship of Bonaire. I was out in five minutes. Well, I’m still illegal though. The appointment was only to hand in the application. Now we wait for the application to be approved. That could take, well umm…about five weeks the kind man said. I hope my snotty remark did not add to that period. You see, I made copies of every required document but for one of the documents the kind man wanted the original one. I asked how I was going to hand it in to other authorities which may too ask for it. The kind man said other authorities might accept a copy, to which I replied: and how was I going to get them a copy if you keep the original? A courteously silence followed.

Remember my long walks and my kind driver? Well, the next day we met again and again and then again and before I knew it, he had turned into my private driver. He didn’t want me walking in the heat so after giving me short lifts and consequently meeting me again, he decided to just drop me off and stay in the parking lot waiting for me so he could drive me back somewhere else. When I was done, he drove me home. This is probably where you are about to ask yourself if this man doesn’t work. He does, or so he told me. I decided to properly introduce myself, we got to first name basis and telling-a little bit-about-yourself basis. He needs to drive around and inspect construction sites for his job. I enjoyed having my own private driver but it was just for one day though, because the next day I got my rental car. That was the end of me having my own private driver. And it was for free too. He wouldn’t accept any money, he said something about doing good deeds and hoping to receive that back. I think he is a religious man. He also said that when he first arrived on the island some years ago, he too was walking a lot so he knows what that feels like and he didn’t want me to go through the same thing. Ah, such a nice man and I will probably never see him again. Maybe one day I can repay the favour. But hey, at the end of this week I will have to return my rental car, maybe after that I will be meeting my private driver again. Who knows. It’s either that or I guess I’ll be getting another rental car.

What do you do when you are on an island with no car and the battery of your phone is low and you cannot charge it because your charger uses a different type of switch plug? Well, you walk. And so walk I did. I walked for hours and hours, looking for a place that looked like one where they would sell such a plug. I didn’t know the island so I would just enter random mobile shops and ask. No one was selling that. I had to go to the hardware store and to my luck that meant even further walking. All the drivers looked at me as if I was this alien walking alongside the road. I guess people do not walk here normally. A kind woman stopped and asked if I needed a ride. I said, no thank you, I like to walk. I was feeling good, it was sunny, extremely hot but I had a water bottle with me. Then all of a sudden it started raining, that was not cool. Especially since it made me remember how I had un umbrella before coming here and how this usually nice co-worker wasn’t so nice the night he took my umbrella. I decided to buy a new one, I entered a store, picked one and went to the cash register. Having arrived there, I decided to look at the price tag. It was thirty dollars!! You can imagine how this story ends. No, not a clue? I’ll help you out. I put bak the umbrella, wished the shop assistants a good day and left, without umbrella, and kept walking in the rain. Ok, ok, I’ll admit, the rain was not that big of a deal. It’s not like I got all wet and everything. It didn’t rain that hard or that long and the sun dried me up pretty quickly.

Back to the walking, it started as fun. Everything is fun in the beginning. I felt powerful, thinking I would be doing this everyday. I walked and looked around, bought some clothes, cards, post stamps, a cup, a book, a pair of sandals, drinks and lots and lots of groceries. Too much, and that’s where the fun ends. By the time I went back home I was carrying two very heavy bags. And did I say I walked for hours yet? Add to that two heavy bags and you can understand I wasn’t cheering on my way back. This time I was hoping the nice lady would drive by again. She didn’t, a guy did though. Yes, yes, too dangerous I know. But I used my sixth, seventh and eighth sense to check him out. I glanced  over in the car and decided he was okay so I got in the car. By the time he stopped to pick me up I was already almost home so it was like a two minutes drive. And guess what, when I got home, with my new switch plug, I discovered there was one already in the room. Not only that, but there was a socket in the kitchen where my phone cord would have fitted in. Why I didn’t see that before my hours of walking? Yup, it is tiresome to be me.

For years I have been debating the possibility of me having an OCD. I don’t think I do of course, I consider myself completely normal. It is the world which is crazy in my opinion and I stick to that. I simply do not like touching things, hand shake included. But I do, all the time, hence why I do not have an OCD. However, I remember which hand or fingers touched what and as soon as I can I will either wash, disinfect or rub my hand clean. In my purse you will always find disinfecting gel, wipes, both dry and moisten, a plastic bag for tiny trashes and extra napkins to cover toilet seats. A bit exaggerated? You would say differently if you knew how often others ask me for these things. A little tip about those toilet seats, I have come to learn many women do not sit on public toilet seats. Good. However, many women forget the front part of the toilet seat and under the seat is also dirty so when you take your pants off, they will slip against the front part and sometimes even between the seat and the front part. To avoid this, you should always put a long sleeve of toilet papers hanging over the seat all the way from inside to the floor. Remember also that your clothes will touch the floor which is also dirty. Keep that in mind and roll your pants up. Also, do not put your purse down and if you hang your purse alongside the wall or door, put toilet papers under the purse and between the purse and the wall or door.

Enough with the tips, now back to the subject of this post. I apologize for the long introduction. So, I am staying in this gorgeous resort on Bonaire and for a moment I thought what the hell. I will prove once again I do not have OCD. The apartment looks clean enough so I decided to walk barefoot in it and to unpack and store my belongings without cleaning first. It worked….for a few hours. I will admit that I could not shake of the thought of the surface looking clean without being it. So I put my flip flops back on (after washing my feet of course) and I cleaned the closets, the toilet, the table and the kitchen supplies. You know, just in case. I haven’t cleaned the fridge yet but it bothers so I will get to that soon.

May 28, 2013. I arrived at the island Bonaire, my new home. Bonaire used to be island B in the ABC islands of the Netherlands Antilles, now it’s just Bonaire, Caribbean Netherlands. Why the name change? Long story, so google it. Anyway, I arrived there. Or here, I should say now. First things I noticed stepping out of the plane were the wind, the heat, and the lack of a jet bridge (ok, I admit I looked that one up on google). You know that tunnel you walk through from the airplane to the airport? That’s a jet bridge and that, is nonexistent at the airport of Bonaire. Not that I minded, it was actually a refreshing and pleasant experience. It reminded me of the time when the airport of Curaçao also didn’t have one. You get welcomed by the wind and the extended view of the island. Nice. There was one big difference though. At Curaçao the airport would have been crowded with shouting people, screaming at there relatives whom in return would have waved and smiled at them. That wasn’t the case at Bonaire. Sadly. It was quiet, with only the airport personnel smiling timidly at everyone passing by. And that passing by took a long time. I mean for a tiny island with an even tinier airport (trust me it looks more like a house then an airport, that’s how small it is), that was a long stroll or maybe I am just exaggerating because I was tired at that time. Good thing about a small airport is though, everything is just there within reach. So don’ t bother looking around trying to find out which luggage band you have to go to, because there is simply just one luggage band. That band is just behind passport control and once you have gotten your luggage (I am always lucky to get my luggage right away, maybe that has something to do with me always being one of last ones to check in), the customs post is just around the corner, which on his way is just around the corner of the exit. Then you are outside, at Bonaire.

I was fortunate, this man from work was there standing waiting for me to arrive. He brought me to my resort and took pity on me when my rented care wasn’t there. You see, I usually hate my twelve-year-old-like-sounding-voice but from time to time it comes in handy. You just have to know how and when to use it to your advantage and I do. I asked the kind man where there were supermarkets and till what time they would be open. He understood what I wasn’t asking, I mean I wasn’t gonna intrude but I did need a lift, so he took me to the store and back home. The prices are unbelievably high, but my apartment on the other hand is amazing. I love it, it’s beautiful, there is so much wind I don’t even need to start the air-conditioning and I have this great view of resorts on little islands surrounded by clear blue water, plus it is very spacious inside and there are practically no mosquitos at this site of the complex. It’s good for my allergies too, there are no carpets (instead tiles) and no curtains (instead wooden blinds) in the bedroom. I wish I could stay here, but then for free of course, like is the case now 🙂 Why can’t it be like that? Always paying for everything in this world…so annoying.

The kind man, he truly is very kind, lifted my (very very heavy) suitcase and carried it upstairs without a problem. No comment, no complaints. Amazing. My brother and friends would have commented on every step. I was like, I like you dude 🙂

So that was my first day on Bonaire, it was around seven o’ clock pm when I arrived so I just stayed inside after that. I opened my presents my friends and family gave me at the airport. I enjoyed them, all of them. Afterwards, I took a moment to realize this big step in my life. I left everything and everyone behind in Holland to come to this place I have never ever been to before. Where there is no cinema and no Mac Donald as my dear friend kindly kept pointing out. Yes, I took a moment to let it all sink in, but I wasn’t sad any longer nor afraid. From the very beginning I felt like being at home. I can see myself living on this island. I went to bed with that thought. But not after first walking around in the apartment wearing just a shirt. My David Duchovny shirt 🙂 . Since I’m cold pretty easily, it was a while ago that I got to walk around in my own house wearing just a shirt. It felt great.

I am going to bed now. Why do I always do these things late at night? I don’ t get myself. Waking up for work in the morning is gonna be brutal again. Sigh.

Tune in again for day two at Bonaire. I will post again soon, I hope 🙂

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