Tomorrow is chhoti Diwali (rolling eyes, here) and I am going home. Kanna pachhe, because there will be so much chaos, at home while leaving, and then on the way, at the station. Because I wanted to send off the syllabus to my author, scan and send chapters to another author, speak to someone who might help me find a series editor, and all my bloody office forced us to do today was celebrate Diwali. We had to dress up in the shinies, play musical chairs, eat the lunch organised, and then everyone went home before 3, barring a few. Of course I didn't play musical chairs. I really really resent being forced to conform to someone's definition of culture, fun and celebration, that it has to be so loud and shiny, that shitloads are spent on what is a smokescreen to take focus away from shitty increments, and a reorientation of focus from quality work to loud show.
I have hardly worked. I mean, I have, but it's more like dragging the weight along, rather than rushing ahead to do as much as I can and sneaking in some more, if possible. I feel angry, tired and bored all the time. Oh, and also cold, since we are in the season of is it/isn't it winter.
My loud and attention-needing colleague really annoys me, my boss came wearing a wedding sari, for heaven's sake, and I know nothing will get done the moment I push away from this dusty, dirty, smoggy, awful city.
My mother is a constant thorn on my mind. Where would I even start if I have to write about her. I have a photo of me which has distinct hints of mortality. My hair is silvering in sad and different ways that it didn't before. And there is no boy in sight. I wish I could go out on a fun date with someone normal: not really an obvious asshole, you know? I have felt so old and unpartnerable these past few days, like, how could I even imagine that someone might want to spend their life with me.
I have hardly worked. I mean, I have, but it's more like dragging the weight along, rather than rushing ahead to do as much as I can and sneaking in some more, if possible. I feel angry, tired and bored all the time. Oh, and also cold, since we are in the season of is it/isn't it winter.
My loud and attention-needing colleague really annoys me, my boss came wearing a wedding sari, for heaven's sake, and I know nothing will get done the moment I push away from this dusty, dirty, smoggy, awful city.
My mother is a constant thorn on my mind. Where would I even start if I have to write about her. I have a photo of me which has distinct hints of mortality. My hair is silvering in sad and different ways that it didn't before. And there is no boy in sight. I wish I could go out on a fun date with someone normal: not really an obvious asshole, you know? I have felt so old and unpartnerable these past few days, like, how could I even imagine that someone might want to spend their life with me.
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