But wait…did I hear a Whatsapp alert on my phone? Uh.Huh…Just a peek at the notification and I’ll be done with it. This is soon going to end up and the cupboard will be all neat and shinning. Mission Untidy Wardrobe- to be accomplished before the toddler wakes up and before she thinks of ‘helping’ me with the task!Īnd there I am sorting out the mountain of fabric into piles. What the hell! I have been sleeping since an hour, it was supposed to be 15 minutes! Ok, Chill. And hence begins the saga of an hour long session of a blissful nap. Voicey’s shoulders drop and she soon surrenders to the delicious sound of the syllables of la.ter. This resistance (like renaissance) gives a lot of courage to other little voices and soon there are chants of ‘later, later’ all around. “But I think ‘later’ is fine, ‘later’ is good, ‘later’ is lovely, ‘later’ sounds awesome”, of course there is resistance. Voicey, of course, has to make an entry here like an impossible Greek tyrant, shouting her lungs off, chanting the obvious words, the ones that I dread and despise, “the pile of clothes, the untidy wardrobe, you need to get up, get up, get up…” And then there it is- a tiny but extremely brave and shrewd voice that raises its head against the Greek tyrant, trying to negotiate the situation with a suggestion, “Umm…Later? May be?” “What! No ways, it’s today and it’s now”, My eyelids begin to weigh a ton and I find myself snatching me back from the claws of a heavenly nap. But the sight of watching her drifting into sleep slowly is so infectious that I find myself loosing focus too. I firmly promise myself to arrange the untidy piles of the clothes in the cupboard FOR SURE once the kid surrenders to a siesta. But hey, in my defense I’d say it’s not entirely my fault. Well, I can’t do that because, I admit, she is always right (damn you!) so I just give her dozens of eye-rolls and some more to shut her up.
I want to punch Voicey, very hard in the face every night for giving me that daily dose of ‘kadwa sach’ and not allowing me to just be. You end up procrastinating stuff all day because your day begins with a dash of procrastination. She always, I mean ALWAYS begins with a, “the fifteen minute snooze session in the morning, exactly, that’s what costs you dearly today and yesterday and day before that- since centuries to be precise. Besides, there is also ‘crying over the spilt milk’ left to do and by that I mean bickering with Voicey on the how’s and the why’s of the last night’s FAILED to-do list. So, anyway, it is 12.30 am, I am patting the kid to sleep and my brain is in the state wherein it is divided into three extremely dissimilar zones- one part of it is wide awake, the other is chasing sleep desperately and the rest of it is peacefully unconscious… Therefore, the mammoth task of drawing out a mental to-do list for the next day rests on that one poor, little chunk of thinking muscles on the corner of the brain that is burning midnight oil against its will. In fact, it is a voice so irritatingly prominent that it is impossible to keep distance from it. Yes, that‘s my ‘inner voice’ and no, it is not sacred or pious like it is supposed to be. Throwing mean and venomous mental notes at me was VOICEY. It’s too late now, they are almost…well… ‘gone with the wind’) Prepare aloevera gel, buttermilk and honey hair pack for hair fall problem (mental note: for that you will require hair. (mental note: for that you will also require to wash it,’ cause it has been lying hung behind the door since a week- exactly the time, hubby spot a missing button)Ĭlean the topmost shelf in the corner of the kitchen (mental note: for that to be done you will require to bring down the wooden stool from the store room upstairs and that will require energy and motivation)
Stitch that goddamned button back on hubby’s shirt tomorrow
No.matter.what, yes, I mean it this time, COME WHAT MAY, I will:
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