New place same old person

It has been a surreal experience, for sure. We are all moved in to our new place. I haven't solved the Internet yet. In my defense it is the first thing I tried to do. But the damned airtel service is so very poor that I got caught in a whole bunch of loops that I couldn't disentangle, and left it at that. The iPad, which my husband has kindly let me borrow, is not the most convenient thing, for anything, really. But it is definitely beautiful, this I admit. And in this moment of my life, when there seems to be this line of things stacked against me, it is a saving grace for me. A chance to get away, albeit virtually. I wish I could muster some enthusiasm to share about our new home. Maybe it will come, in some time. For now, all I am able to do is be practical. And do what I need to do, and hope against hope that the washing machine doesn't flood the place (again). I have set up houses several times before. This is also not the first home we have owned. I have a system, I know the priority items. I of course have my obsessions, some of which are watered down versions of my mothers obsessions. Still, even armed with this knowledge, it has been, and continues to be, trying times here. Not that I care much about people, but I sense that to my acquaintances, the person I am is a false one. Even to my friends. The one I am inside, this person, is hard for anyone to know. Despite the fact that I am an open, frank, honest being who can never play poker. So I bite back my words. I listen. I learn to speak less, to retreat within myself, further. I lie to my mum, I make jokes. I talk in circles, I try hard not to address my feelings, to not acknowledge them,even to myself. When I break, then too I have learnt, to not regret too much, to just move on... For now I sit and watch the washing machine, and hope it doesn't flood (again)...