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Wednesday, April 07, 2004 Warning: The following post is heavily I laden. One tedious read of a paragraph. Does not make sense. You may or not want to read it through. Reading it through does not warrant that you like it too. Reader's discretion advised.It's mid-afternoon and I am yawning like crazy. As Merry (or was it Pippin) said in Tolkein's LOTR, 'if I yawn anymore my face might split into two.' As if my yawns and smiles are in a race to see what divides my small face on the horizontal plane. I need to change my eating habits. Most of the time it's various forms of cocoa laden, milk mixed brown slabs that comes in my hands as I search for house keys in the cavernous insides of my bag. Half the times I go about trying to recollect things I have forgotten to do. The other half is spent in forgetting these things. My work place is a paper mess. The very thought of sorting through it makes me want to go home and curl up in bed with Yousufi's Chiragh Taley. Read Yousufi first a decade ago when I was supposed to be studying for my Matric. exams. Popsie had brought his books home and promised he would let me read them once the exams were over. But seeing him read the books and laugh out loud was temptation too much. He always hid the books after reading (my knowing father) but I always found his hiding place, read a mazmoon or two and replaced the book as if it was never taken out. Is it worth a mention that we have fights over reading material at home? Who gets to read a book first, who gets what page/section of the Sunday newspaper, who gets his/her hands on a magazine first. Nothing beats the feel of reading matter in your hands, seated on your favorite perch at home. Now I can read all that I want, with no Mom or Popsie making mid-night raids. How can it be a raid though, when the lights of your room are on, it should be a cause for concern for parents. So. Since I am big enough now, I am investing in some late late night reading. And raccoon eyes. Hate my cell phone. It does the despicable duty of waking me up each morning. So I slap it shut and go to sleep again. Open my eyes and glance at the snubbed device by my side to realize I have just 20 minutes to get ready and go to work. Accomplishable. Only if I had decided on what to wear the night before, instead of playing BookWorm to Tina Sani singing Faiz's Gar Mujhe Isska Yaqeen Ho. Mornings are such a rush. Mad dashes here and there, trying to put a respectable office attire together, wishing had enough time to do a decent nashta and fix myself a sandwich for lunch. My non-existent 'to do' list is getting longer by the minute. At home I close eyes to my own phelawa, at work I ignore all the paper work. Don't cook anything at home. Breakfast and dinner is milk. Lunch is chocolates or some junk ordered, delivered and eaten late. Not enough water intake. No wonder I feel so lazy, lethargic all the time. No wonder I sleep through that one off day of the week, don't do groceries, don't do laundry, open the fridge, hoping some magical creature must have stocked it up while I was sleeping, or at least fixed me up a decent meal, wondering where all my clean clothes are and find a strange alien like being staring at me from the mirror. It's all because of a sillily high level of chocolate intake. I must cut down on chocolates. The best way to keep a resolution is to act on it on a memorable day. Like March 3rd, 2003 or April 3th, 2004. Missed both, the realization of all my lifestyle woes came late. So I will embark on this ambitiously ludicrous chocolate free journey on May 5th, 2005 (05/05/05). In the meantime I have to finish off my current supplies of Twix. Need to do groceries and laundry...yawn...if I yawn one more time... |
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