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No Undo Button in Life

Really, I didn't consider the time zone issue from the beginning so I missed two office hours. Also I apologize for not following the proper rule so it's kinda way too late for my first draft but hope I could still gain any feedbacks :|

It was that time of the year when I send greetings abroad to friends and relatives in form of handwritten letters. It was also that time of the year when I've got a pretty good pile of stuff on my desk and I had no idea how to deal with it. So when my boss asked me and a friend out for Japanese seafood lunch I thought it would be a good deal for our work-weary souls, which would also mean more break talking and less time working. I was about to write the address for my letters when I sensed my boss' impatient expectancy at the doorway. There I saw Mike our errand boy approaching our cubicles. Handing him two envelopes, I asked him to do the letter stuff. 'I'll text you the addresses'. 

The first letter was for my Guruji in India. It was a sweet thank you note on our last workshop, from whom he'd known as his keen student, a young vegan yogini from a distant country. I was thrilled when I first met Guruji. I was helping out a friend who owns a yoga studio for this spiritual festival in Bali and there was the soft spoken guru, whose speech was yet full of power, looking 20 years younger than his age. I attended his 18 hours workshop. At the airport, he praised me for paying deep attention during the sessions and blessed me for a bright future. At the end of the letter, I quoted his words and replied that all my spiritual hard work was fruits of his guidance. I rounded it up with a promise to visit his ashram in Arunachal Pradesh some time next year. 

The second letter was for my friend Ellie who was studying in Vienna. She was my college friend, collaborator, sidekick to my dirty deeds. We went to Euro trip early this year and after that both of us instinctively believed that we should meet and rewind the trip. In the letter, I reminded her of the trip, with Ibiza, our extreme barhopping, and brownie trip in Amsterdam being the most highlighted. To put simply, it was timely to send her a collection of polaroids in the middle of her dissertation. Tucked neatly under the envelope flap was a picture of the two us with a ripped and beefy Russian dirty dancer, sporting nothing but blonde wig.

Back from lunch I ran into Mike at the lobby. He handed me the postage receipt and I was convinced the letters were swapped. The one which went to India was charged as Priority Mail International Parcel for containing some printed photographs. When I tried to look calm, Mike showed me the text on his phone and yes -- it was obviously from me although I couldn't remember typing and sending it. I was probably busy freeing the crab form its shells. Mike gave me a meaningful look and I wondered why this should have happened to me, someone whose job is to painstakingly spot mistakes other people make, who have never added any addresses in 'To' field until after I have composed the email to my satisfaction, and hereby I contributed to my first devastating fiasco. In my mind collages took over. Images of Guruji and his white beard were taking turns with pictures of me and Ellie in distasteful clothing, naked Russian dancer, and hash party. Guruji's verbal repartee was almost audible so was my excessive swearing in the letter. The post office closed early that day but I had time to meditate about it. I ran like a person deep in debt due to borrowing money from a shark loan. I heard my boss shouting. It was totally hopeless. 

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