- I am about 60% done for the Wednesday’s deadline – three of five documents (15 pages each) done. One part of me is confident that I will be able to meet the deadline. The neurotic me reminds me of navarathri guests, navarathri visits, possible migraines, lunch guests tomorrow and my sudden inability to be able to string words (which has never happened yet, says the confident LG, but she has a weak voice). The neurotic LG also reminds me of back burner work – an article to be written, a thesis to be edited and what not. The confident one is fighting, even if a losing battle.
- Talking of documents to be edited – it is probably unethical to comment about clients, but I find that Indians have no concept of weekends. One client sent me a document to edit on Friday evening and emailed me on Sunday asking me if I had finished the edition. A few years ago, such a mail would get me all riled up and I would decline to edit the client’s document, but now my fuse is not as short. I merely tell them that I don’t work on weekends. I never find this an issue with my non-Indian clients.
- This 5.30 AM wake-up is still going strong, but I remain groggy for half an hour. The good thing is that I sit for the half hour, doing nothing, hovering the area between sleep and wakefulness. Wake up time notwithstanding, I am not a brisk wake-upper; it takes thirty minutes and a couple of cups of coffee to jolt me into life no matter when I wake up. My significant other hits the ground running. The kid, sadly, takes after the mom.
- I am liking this morning wakeup, even if I do feel a little sick in my stomach until I am fully awake. I realise that I have not sat doing nothing in YEARS. The last time I did that was probably when I worked in the US and lived by myself. On weekends, I had nothing to do, so I would sit in the patio of the apartment, with a cup of coffee and just watch people go by for an hour or so. That was 15 years ago. Whoa. Its been 15 years since I returned to India.
- When I was a student in the US, I was an avid follower of the sitcom Friends. Somewhere along the sixth season, I freaked out at my addiction, plucked the mini television set I owned, put it out with the garbage and vowed that I would not own a television for the rest of my life. With my daughter’s new-found interest in American Sitcoms, catalysed by The Big Bang Theory (TBBT), we are watching Friends again now. We still don’t own a television, but project the video files on our living room wall. We are in the eight season now, and I am aghast at what irritating people the female leads of the sitcom have evolved into. All three of them are selfish brats, and are really rude – how can they still be “friends” when they are so rude to each other? The men are better, although it bugs me that Ross, the only academic and higher-educated character, is treated so badly – what is the message sent? To be well-educated is to be a loser? Hmm. Also, TBBT is such a rip off of Friends, isn’t it?
Back to work now.