choice dependency

Last night I got locked in my room. I had just changed into my house clothes after coming back from work when I tried the door and it refused to open. We have had similar problems like this before so I thought with a little pushing the door would just fly open. That was not to be unfortunately because it was only after 50 minutes of frustration that the key-cutter, Yusuf, came over and mutilated our lock so much that the door just popped open. Never have I been so relieved to see the rest of my house!

It just goes to show that when we do not have the choice to do anything else we immediately feel our present circumstances are crap. I mean the room itself is a perfect place to chill since it has everything I need in it (except food). My books, laptop, music, water, air-conditioner are all encapsulated in that tiny little room. But just because I was locked in there, I really, really needed to get out. It was strange. We are a bunch of malcontents because the grass is truly greener on the other side, but eventually it’s never green enough. I could have waited in that room for hours on end and not have had the slightest urge to get out but this craving, this addiction for the outside came over me and I got a bit freaked out. I think my claustrophobia was just a subset of some fundamental truth about who we are and we exist in this world. Having the choice to do something else is the key to my peace of mind but that doesn’t mean those choices are amazing or even remotely accessible.

I also got to thinking about how very dependent we are on the most mundane things in life. I mean the fricking lock fell apart and I couldn’t get out for 50 minutes. Oh sure, sure, not a big deal at all but what if no one had been at home to open the door for key-cutter? Serious shit lah. On similar lines, take the telephone. If your phone is out of order, you can’t call your grocery store for your daily order, you can’t connect to the internet, you can’t call the key-cutter when you want them. It’s all about being inconvenienced; we just can’t take it. Imagine, if we somehow apparated into the 14^th century and had to travel on horseback for 22 days to see a priest so he could see a medicine man? Or tell someone his wife was sleeping with someone else?

It’s so hot. I can’t take it.