My impatient self

I've seriously begun to question my patience. And while a whole lot of people jumped at this opportunity to advise me as to how I should meditate, join a gym, do some yoga, take long walks etc, to calm my erratic mind down, I refuse to any of it.
What I really need is to go home, which I am in a while but it just seems so far away. I've been constantly missing things of the past - memories that can always be reenacted. I miss eating out with my friends, having long conversations, lapping up drops of rain and extremely nonsensical stuff that I am very good at.
Has it ever happened that you find life moving too fast but nothing really seems to happen?
I think i am at that bizarre stage where I am finding it hard to keep pace but am always wondering what is really going on. I have very little to account for... Damn it.
In 2 1/2 years, I will be 35 years old. And very little to show for.
Some of the kids from the past are coming back into my life. And they are doing so well for themselves. Sometimes I wish I never left that - should have perhaps continued working for some more children who could do with some help.
I miss those couple of years with Zana and Ross and the whole film-making process. I can never really relate the whole experience in words. It was rather fantastic.
I've been impatient since then.
Jobs have come and gone, and I am actually, finally, doing something I really enjoy. But even so, at the end of every day I wonder what have I really done for that day?
I miss true Bengali food - the stuff that's made at home. The ones we don't have to worry about because they might be doused in oil. I miss my grandmother's luchis, something I haven't ever been able to get out of my mind. I miss the aromas of mutton curry fluttering into the dining room from the kitchen and we'd know that something good was coming up.
I miss my cousins, my sister - things that people think of much later in life.
Is that God's way of telling me that I'm running out of time?

I can't put up with crass conversation anymore. Earlier I'd at least pretend to be polite. Now, I can't handle it. And I get that in some form or the other all the bloody time.

I miss meeting interesting people. I do meet them at times. But I can't really dare to pick up the phone and ask them if they'd like to meet up for coffee. Do I really have questionable social skills?

I am constantly walking back home and making up my mind that I don't want to go out that night. And eventually, when it's time to hit the sack, I'd think, "damn I wish I went and got Sushi today."
Life is bizarre and so freaking unpredictable that it's predictable.

Harima is on my list. I want to go there as soon as I can. I am missing it.

I need to figure out a way to channelise my energies. It's not happening. And yoga won't do it - so don't go there.