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A ‘whatever’ Wednesday

January 5, 2011

Some days speed like trees do as seen from a window of a fast-moving train. Whiz! Whiz! Whiz! They all look the same, a giant green blur, indistinguishable from each other.

Some days move slowly like long queues at checkout in malls on weekends. Such days are made of day dreams and imaginary interviews and finding love and losing love and living one’s entire life standing behind a guy whose credit card has to get stuck in the machine. [Bad metaphor alert?]

Anyways, Wednesdays are such as slow as snail days.

Wednesdays are hard to get by. I have to force myself awake and then the entire day I am walking in a haze, as if I am in a dream and I am someone else, my own doppelgänger. Wednesdays are the days I don’t seem to care if I have stood in front of office lift for forever and it is still stuck on the fourth floor. I wish they would have an off on Wednesdays too but my mother who toils six days a week will induce guilt and say, “Five day week! Count your blessings!” I do, I count till five days to Saturday every Monday. What else is there?

Then, as if to put a non-pitted cherry on a stale cake, in the evening my gym instructor makes me do resistance training.   First he monologues about this common bias that women have against lifting weights. I hardly hear him beyond the second sentence because my mind is doing math. On my way to the gym, a woman who had a huge grocery bag and was also toting a toddler got in my bus. I got off after five minutes but the toddler plus the grocery bag must have weighed 10 kgs combined. I tell him I don’t resist any resistance training. Please make me suffer for my upper class third world problems like weight gain because I sat in front of the computer all my life like a stupid feminist to be financially independent instead of toting toddlers on buses.

He did make me suffer. I can barely type. [Hmmm…bad liar alert?]

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