What me worry?

I got a call today, prospective employer; a prospect I’d never explored. I was still in bed when the phone rang and mom picked it up. She called out my name after a while. I carried my emaciated self to the phone stand to be told by a lady that I’d applied for a position at TPPL for a C. Manager and I’d been short-listed. This was out of the blue. I’ve been gloriously unemployed since December last year and while I did wish for a change of status, poring over the Sunday job pages and moaning how many good opportunities I’d not been giving a shot, I didn’t remember doing anything for a change of status. Sure I wished for a steady deposit of money in my bank account end of each month but that too was taken care of somehow as two of my checks due from the last company I’d worked at were delivered in January and February this year. So. I interviewed the pleasant sounding lady to learn that it was through bayt, the job website I’d registered myself on ages ago and never updated my profile, that they came across my particulars and now were interested in an interview. Of course I had to apologize and explain how even hinting of appearing for a job interview at this time might mean a vicious threat of maiming from my family. And then I had to tell (and stop just short of inviting) her that I was sitting mayoun tomorrow and getting married next week. Oh, she said, would you still be in Karachi after marriage, I told her of my imminent relocation to Lahore and then out of country. She was pleased at the mention of Lahore but I deflated her telling it was a temporary move.
So that was a nice, flattering start to the day. I don’t know how my hiatus from work would reflect on my search for a job once I am ready to enter the rat-race again. As THE day looms ahead I am full of uncertainties and doubts of how I would adjust to changes that a change in the m status demands. It’s given me insomnia and a severe indigestion, I’ve been on ORS for the past two days and only managed to crawl out of bed today. I’ve been having vivid dreams of eating aloo koftay with chawal and then wake up to a vile looking/smelling/tasting plate of kichri ma insists I eat. I taste steel in my mouth, black out at random, have a sudden flash of pain in the head…and I have to get well before tomorrow…and stay well, all hale and hearty, for at least two months.

I dream of going to the Bargain Basement at Liberty Books and browse through for hours, then going to Laraib and sifting through DVDs, stuffing myself with Jeddah's kabab roll, KU's biryani and double kabab roll and aloo samosas...visiting every relatives' house, shopping for gifts for my cousins, talking to and laughing like a loon with my siblings and telling them how much they mean to me, buying a spanking nifty new laptop, or at least getting my old one fixed...reading all the books that gather dust on my bookshelf, watch the movies Ibought but never got a chance to see...and all of sudden, there's no time left. This is how life as I know it comes to an end... and they say I should not worry?