Waiting in Bangkok

It is not clear to me what I am waiting for either, except to get myself physically to Bhutan. I think I am already there mentally.

It is like waiting for a needle. Or perhaps something more pleasant. There is anxiousness though; I am eager to have a home in which to unpack my bags of insanity.

Bangkok is a good place to wait. There are always things to do; attempt the chilies in the street food, navigate the used-shoes, stolen phones and Buddha relics in the markets, watch a beautiful breasted transexual Celine Dion gracefully stave off drunks while lip singing in a late night drag show. You know, whatever...