Sporadic and not ______

It is easier to write about politics and cricket than to write about my life these days. Good sign or bad?

 

I worked out today. After really long. And I could hear the joints creaking, saying thank you. Thank you for making use of us and waking us up from this slumber after 2 full months. I am loving that pull in my thigh and the way my arm moves only in one direction. I chucked a sweaty t-shirt into the washing machine after so long. I love how I hate to have hair on my neck after a workout session. The lightness of being.

 

No, I haven't paid up at the gym yet. Because it's expensive and I am perennially broke. And no, I did not go by the beautiful lake for a run. I fear street dogs and mom fears rowdies. So it was jogging at home, stairs for the stepper, the usual crunches on the floor and a whole lot of dancing to some club music. Yes, about an hour and half of total work out. And I feel lighter. Physically and mentally.

 

I wonder what came to me today but I read some old emails and some old notes/diaries. Ok, maybe they are not so old after all. I felt damn sad for the way things, relationships and some people turned out to be. I was trying damn hard to feel some anger for those people, but unfortunately I could not move beyond sadness. Wonder why I take charge of things in such a Gandhi-an style.

 

Utopia posted the song Lucky (Jason Mraz and Colbie) on her blog and said she hasn't been lucky. (read the lyrics to get the context.) I had been lucky ones and trashed it out the window. It's excused. We were only kids then. And another time, never realized I could and should have gotten lucky. So scared I was. And so was he. Shame on us. We know how we felt. 

And now, I know why some people say they sing well. They want me to ask them to sing. But I won't. Boys singing and the after-effects have always been quite disastrous. And I know my lack of any particular fondness for Orchids (and other flowers), Violins (and other stringed instruments), late-night phone calls (and sms-es), and similar 'sweet' things ticks off some people. But I can't help it. I've faked fondness a couple of times to realize how much I end up disliking the people who make me fake it. Let's have it the other way round this time. You hate me instead. 

 

I spent about 4 hours with my GMAT books. Do you know spending time with books does not equate to studying? Seriously. It doesn't. But I am an optimist. I hope I will spend the next 2 hours doing SOMETHING constructive at least. That bitch of an exam has to be dealt with. Boredom, please come by a little later. I swear I am busy.