Get up in the morning and immediately get depressed.
Reason being? 'I have nothing to do today'.Now, this is as close to the truth as pink is to black, since you have the dishes, a gourmand appetitie to satiate (your own that is), a choice between the vacuuming/ doing the laundry or cleaning some corner of the house that is long overdue (and thanks to procrastination, its usually more than just one of the above), not to mention a plethora of 'Hello xxx... im new to the city and would like to meet you for an informational meeting' mails that have to be written everyday..
So, there, the first lie has been busted. The result- you have no right to get depressed.
True to your Cribber-self, you immediately move to the nest big question- 'ok, I have lots to do, so where do I start'?
Start with a cuppa 'chai'- but its not just a cup. In the quest for a life less ordinary, you have effortlessly complicated every single thing- so on one hand there are multiple options and on the other, multiple dilemmas. There is Earl Grey, Lemon grass green, Darjeeling thunderbolt (second flush), floral jasmine, rose tea, cinnamon tea...
So instead of brewing a pot, or boiling a few leaves and getting on with it, you ponder for several minutes to uderstand what 'tea' type you might be for the day.
The blues? hmmm..nothing better than the invigorating smell of cinnamon.
Feeling hopeful? Feel like you could get a lot of work done today? This invariably means you might want to opt for something healthier..so green, lemon grass.
Feel adventurous? Floral jasmine..a whiff of fresh jasmine infused into the sanitised air of the apartment- no room freshener required after that.This could go on..but you get the general drift.
By now, your day is either off to a flying start and you feel upbeat with that cup and your choice of brew or you could begin to ponder once again about those existential questions- "Who am I? What am I doing here? What is it that I was meant to do in life"? A wise friend of mine calls it mind-fucking and mind-fucking it is except that you are really the one getting fucked in the process. Imagine - you are on the patio of a very high floor of a highrise, looking down at the cars that resemble multicoloured matchboxes, the hills on one side, and a panoramic view of the town on the other, and all that you can think of is that this is one more day without a mission. Moreover, this is despite the fact that you are not too sureof your mission in life anyway.How fucked do you have to be to feel that way?