Monday hating and vacation dreaming

It's been over 1.5 months since I returned from my much needed holiday. Away from work and responsibilities, only with friends and family. And 3 whole weeks spent travelling across Spain and Portugal, eating the best meat and fish and drinking the finest wine. I don't think I could have asked for a better holiday. Maybe just another one sooner rather than later.

Speaking of holidays, Mondays are the most difficult thing to return to. Monday hating exists. And for a very good reason. Though the beginning of the week, it is one of the most unproductive days of the week. It is spent catching up with colleagues, replying to emails sent over the weekend, discussing conquests/wastage of the previous weekend, meetings for catch up, meetings for planning, meetings for meetings. You get the idea.

As I try to get through another Monday, all I can think of is why there exists this particularly horrible day of the week. Then all the wisdom that I have gathered in my almost 25 years of existence make me realise that Mondays exist simply to take the pressure off Tuesdays. So, good guy Monday. No, bad guy Monday. Still a bad guy for me.

I'd rather be vacation. Lying next to the pool or on a sunbed at Marbella. Or sipping on cava and eating tapas at a bar in Barcelona. Or just crusing through the Duoro valley after more than advised amount of port wine. Speaking of port wine, have you ever heard of green wine? Green wine is basically made from fresher grapes, with lesser sugars. Therefore, it is much more fruity and less fermented. And tastes SO GOOD!

Dammit, I am back to vacation dreaming on this Monday hating.

Ah well, it must be in the stars today.

Listening to Happy by Pharell Williams to get me through this rather drab Monday.

xoxo
The Rambler

The writer's block

As a kid, when I stumbled upon the term writer's block, I didn't know it was my first oxymoron. No wonder, the word left me flummoxed. I couldn't conjure in my growing mind, how a writer could ever have a block. The want and the need to write is what composed the writer. As an avid writer of short stories and attempted poetry, I always fixated upon the oxymoronic nature of the term. Till a few years back as well, I never could get my head around it. But as I get more wrapped up in my duties as an adult, I am beginning to recognize, how the need and the want to write is not always supplied with the material to write.

I have had and definitely think, will always have this great urge to write. But work, studies and the newly started yoga classes are leaving me drained. I don't have the jump in my stride anymore, the energy in my laughter or the imagination in my thoughts. I get bogged down by worries. I don't make leaps of faith. Instead, carefully analyse everything before "jumping in". 

The wise men have said, growing up is the most horrible thing you can do. I'd have to agree with the wise men on this one. It drains you out. Growing up that is. You become mechanical. You worry about the future. You stop enjoying the present. You party, not to enjoy, but to get drunk and be dead without the commitment. You stop planning a spontaneous trip with your friends because you can't run away from commitments. You definitely stop binge eating because of all the "oh my god! you've put on weight!" You stop with lying in the shallow waters of Goan beaches because you haven't been to Goa since you left university. And the worst of all, you stop writing. Because at the end of the day, you think only sleep can replenish the energy the overwhelming world has drained you of. Never once thinking, that writing is the best way to rejuvenate your mind. And you end up suffering from writer's block. Not because you are so deprived of life experiences. But because of your inability to discover experiences from everyday happenings. Because, if you are not working, you are sleeping and if not sleeping, working. Like a humanized robot. Either way, you are missing out on life and experiences.

Writer's block still confuses me. I understand why a writer could have difficulty putting things of paper. For lack of experiences. But, without experiences, a writer is no longer a writer. Without the ability to imagine people and circumstances above and beyond your current settings, through your current setting, you are just an ordinary human. Utterly incapable of transferring another human to a place far away from his current existence. To make him feel things. And to make him want to do things. To break away and escape. 

I was suffering from what people would normally term as a writer's block. But I don't anymore. Because, I have realized, I don't get any greater joy than writing. I get a surge. An adrenaline rush. A feeling of accomplishment so powerful, it gives me strength to do other mundane tasks. And the ability to find my stories in the slightest of experiences. Like today.

xoxo

The Rambler

I'm really bad at this

Well, it's that time of the year again when I feel guilty about not posting on my blog and start writing out another post. I'm sure this feeling won't last.
Alright. I can't deny it anymore. I'm really bad at writing blog posts and posting regularly. I mean, like really really bad. I always remember to look back on this site when I have some free time. And that is absolutely no way to treat my dear beloved blog. I think we should break up. After all, in this case, it is actually me.
Heh heh. I've always wanted to say that to someone. But never really got the chance. But, oh well. I said it to my blog.
I don't mean it. I'd never give up on my blog even if it meant just our annual date.
As it inadvertently happens when I start writing out my annual blog post, I have no frigging clue as to what I want to write about. But we will see how this one goes.
So, to get the most obvious things put of the way first. 2014 has started. I've been working (so booyeah, I have an actual reason for not posting). Work keeps me busy and my mind off the fact that I'm dating my work.
My mother plans on opening a shaadi.com account for me on my 25th birthday which happens to fall in November. So, thankfully I have three quarters of a year to frolick around. With models and sheets (those sexy financial models and hunky spreadsheets. Oh myyy) it's going to be hilarious though. "Wanted white Brahmin boy for workaholic Indian girl. Needs to be able to pamper her." Wait, I'm not a Brahmin. So, whatevs. In case you missed it, that's my attempt at being cool and young - to prove the stupid Facebook quizzes that say I'm 44 wrong! I know. I need to sort out my priorities.
As I had mentioned, my annual posts generally have no sense of direction. So, we've covered 2014, work and marriage. What else can a 24 year old do ? Oh yes. I've been studying also. Certifications. Kill me now.
Well, other than that, I've been trying to plan my travels. I really hope I get to go. Sigh. And meeting people. So pretty normal. Sigh.
I guess I lead a boring life. Nothing worth a blog post anyway.
As I promise at the end of every annual blog post, I shall endeavour to post more regularly. One can always hope. 

Till we meet again,
Xoxo
The Rambler