I had big plans for Sunday. No, really. I planned to clean my room, finish a book, watch three movies, go shopping, start jogging and have a fit of inspiration that would solve all the policy issues plaguing the country, and if possible, the world. I needed to prove to myself that I do a better job with everything when I'm goofing off so I set very high targets for having fun, far more unrealistic than any of the exam deadlines I've set for myself.
As the title of this post suggests, I fell short. It's not that I under-performed on all counts. I didn't perform at all. I spent nearly the entire day sleeping. When I wasn't sleeping, I was eating. Even stray dogs have more productive days than that. At least they get into a fight and chase a car or two.
Monday morning, understandably, felt like a new era because I seemed to have no sense of time when I woke up. It wasn't a very nice era. I spent much of the morning searching for things and abandoning the effort when I realised that I no longer remembered what I was looking for. I was late for work. I'm not too sure of what I did all day but I did feel awfully sleepy. And I felt like an overall underachiever.
But I've always been the optimistic sort. I'll do all that I planned to and more. I've made a list of things I'm going to do next Sunday.
No comments:
Post a Comment