I woke up at 2.30 pm. Immediately opened my laptop to check what I missed when I was sleeping. Turns out, I missed absolutely nothing.
This waking up in the noon has been happening for the last couple of days. You know how it goes, the unease builds up slowly, snowballing quietly, until you wake up one day, like I did today, completely ready to snap because you're tired of waking up and feeling like you've to catch up with the world. Absolutely disgusted and groggy with myself, I decide I'm not going to check my phone, Facebook or Gmail for the next two days. 48 hours, I tell myself.
I intend to stick through. The rest of the internet quagmire, however, is fair game.
I make a huge mug of green tea, making a note to buy some more tea, we're running out. But my birthday is coming, maybe someone is already sending me tea. I decide to wait it out. In a week I'll be 26.
I google the best episodes of Inspector Morse. Reading the synopses of each episode, I make a list of which to watch on YouTube first. That'll be an hour and a half taken care of. Then, I'll finish Tove Jansson's wonderful collection of short stories that I was 1/4th of the way through; before sitting down and seriously considering which book to read next. Saraswati Park by Anjali Joseph, some short stories by Lydia Davis, Changing My Mind by Zadie Smith and The Worst Journey in the World by Apsley Garrard are the immediate contenders.
I told a friend I'll read Colum McCann's Transatlantic immediately, as he reads through Let the Great World Spin by the same author. It is a book I gifted him. We had decided it would be amazing to discover an author together. But I don't feel like going there right now. I feel like going nowhere.
I check to see if any new episodes of Jonathan Creek are out yet, and I learn that it was a season of 3 episodes. I also have the Korean drama I was in the middle of, to finish. I've downloaded some 20 books to my Kindle, all book I've been wanting to read for the longest time. Then there's the fluff I need to catch up on. Really bad reality television. It is as much a job as is a good series, I must tell you.
I brought with me to Bombay only the books I hadn't read (which was still a hefty lot) and a couple of immediately accessible favourites. I think that's why I'm struggling. All this is giving me a little anxiety. So much to be read, so much to be watched.
This false sense of a problem is basically due to the lack of a denouement. I'm amazed at what I choose to be affected by in this exact phase of life, as an unemployed woman.
But first, some toast with jam. And some more tea.
This waking up in the noon has been happening for the last couple of days. You know how it goes, the unease builds up slowly, snowballing quietly, until you wake up one day, like I did today, completely ready to snap because you're tired of waking up and feeling like you've to catch up with the world. Absolutely disgusted and groggy with myself, I decide I'm not going to check my phone, Facebook or Gmail for the next two days. 48 hours, I tell myself.
I intend to stick through. The rest of the internet quagmire, however, is fair game.
I make a huge mug of green tea, making a note to buy some more tea, we're running out. But my birthday is coming, maybe someone is already sending me tea. I decide to wait it out. In a week I'll be 26.
I google the best episodes of Inspector Morse. Reading the synopses of each episode, I make a list of which to watch on YouTube first. That'll be an hour and a half taken care of. Then, I'll finish Tove Jansson's wonderful collection of short stories that I was 1/4th of the way through; before sitting down and seriously considering which book to read next. Saraswati Park by Anjali Joseph, some short stories by Lydia Davis, Changing My Mind by Zadie Smith and The Worst Journey in the World by Apsley Garrard are the immediate contenders.
I told a friend I'll read Colum McCann's Transatlantic immediately, as he reads through Let the Great World Spin by the same author. It is a book I gifted him. We had decided it would be amazing to discover an author together. But I don't feel like going there right now. I feel like going nowhere.
I check to see if any new episodes of Jonathan Creek are out yet, and I learn that it was a season of 3 episodes. I also have the Korean drama I was in the middle of, to finish. I've downloaded some 20 books to my Kindle, all book I've been wanting to read for the longest time. Then there's the fluff I need to catch up on. Really bad reality television. It is as much a job as is a good series, I must tell you.
I brought with me to Bombay only the books I hadn't read (which was still a hefty lot) and a couple of immediately accessible favourites. I think that's why I'm struggling. All this is giving me a little anxiety. So much to be read, so much to be watched.
This false sense of a problem is basically due to the lack of a denouement. I'm amazed at what I choose to be affected by in this exact phase of life, as an unemployed woman.
But first, some toast with jam. And some more tea.
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