Snacking on the Salad

I think my multiple personalities are acting as definite roadblocks in my writing excursions. Not that I used to write daily, not that I am a regular blogger, not that I even have a regular lot who reads my somewhat anonymous blog, but I do keep putting in – something or the other – like N mentioned last night, about Lizzy the lizard, the tampon joy and my effort to gym – I know its nothing monumentally or even remotely important…but its my life – and I am assuming (very gladly) that some close ones like reading about it once in a while.

Of late, I feel tired and lazy – more the latter actually – and because I write from 3 sides of me – the socially correct and politically correct me namely this blog, the surreal, streams of consciousness poetic me which would be the one I share with my best friend, and the open, loud, brash, shameless me, which is the third top-secret one – hence even when I sometimes feel a pang of desire to sit and scribble, figuring out which one is the role I want to put on now is such a mental task that the lazy side of me finally triumphs and I end up not writing at all.

However, another argument could be that, I used to write a lot when I was depressed, morose, disillusioned blah blah. I think it was all the extra time I had on my hands – it was like this – no boyfriend, no friends, no life = tons of spare time = lots of scribbling and regularly updating my blog. That’s why the time I was alone and depressed last year was the phase when this salad bowl experienced the maximum seasoning and garnishing. Now, it stands bland and rotten – with no new flavours and no new ingredients. And that, my dear friends, is totally pathetic.

Yes, so I am the tragic queen amongst my friends and I love writing about misery. In fact, I find it terribly difficult and painful to write anything funny. Don’t think though that I haven’t tried, but with repeated attempts that led to disappointing failures, I resigned to writing serious stuff and at times, just frivolous stuff that constitutes for all the light reading on my blog. And because of late there has been nothing serious or even mildly exciting in my life, I haven’t bothered to put it down anywhere.

Let me think about what I could update someone on my life and its many monotonous moments – the job is going on fine, I was supposed to go for a trip to Italy from office which has been cancelled and in effect broken my heart – all because I haven’t finished a year in the damn organisation – hence, my fellow friends and I, who they fondly label as MTs, short for “management trainees”, shall stay and rot in the office while the others gallivant around Italy and ogle at the delicious men there. Though I think that it’s a terrible waste that I am not going – what will the others do – watch some places and “wow” “wow” everything I sight – while I, a lover of classical literature and of art and architecture would have enjoyed the museums, and the colloseum and the gondolas and the Roman history goddammit. Sigh. But what must happen must happen. And so I must sit at office and sulk so those many days (and then maybe in my tragic horrors, end up posting stuff more often). So that was that about the update at work.

I have been negligent on the gym part and I feel that it was of no use. I feel like I wasted money and most weeks, when the score is 2 out of 7, I sit in the pool of guilt and wish I’d bought some clothes and a perfume instead. Or even a teeny-tiny diamond ring. Nahiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnn!!!!!

The slip disc is in control. I haven’t been relegated to bed rest till now. I seem to be doing okay. The boy in question is also fine. We all have our issues. We all sail through them. I suppose it’s not something one would discuss in this blog…apart from the fact that it may turn out to be mind numbingly boring for you, I’d rather leave all the intricate details to the censored blog I maintain and that I am quite in love with.

Mumbai is getting chilly in the evenings. It gives me great pleasure to be able to wear my sweatshirts and sleep under a blanket. But the sleeveless stuff hasn’t gone at the back of my wardrobe so that doesn’t say too much about what a winter we have here. But atleast, something is better than nothing.

Okay I think I have lost my flow again. I have become so floopy and indifferent and lazy. I don’t want to write because I feel it’s too much mental effort to write. But with people poking me and reminding me to keep putting something down time and time again, I am sure the salad bowl won’t die.

So till we meet again (hopefully not in the tragic mode), keep coming back to snack!

xoxo