It's Monday afternoon and I want to write something nice. I want to not write about how very sleepy I am and how all I want to do right now is to find some cozy corner in the office where I can nap unperturbed. Seriously, I just cannot keep my eyes open. Anyway, I will postpone the nap for another ten minutes to write about my weekend.
Saturday night was when the roomies and I bonded over some intoxication. The landlady was away, so the girls came out to play. We all got extremely inebriated, and dealt with it in very different ways. R went and cooked us all a lovely dinner (talk about productive highs), S went and had herself a gastric attack and I called up certain unfortunate folks and shouted my head off. I do that a lot. I wonder why. Then the fun got even more acute, because the landlady came back early. I somehow managed to stop giggling (it's really difficult) and pretended to be interested in the reality show that she was watching. It was not too suspicious, except for the fact that everything everyone said sent me into fits of (suppressed) laughter. I don't think anyone noticed; it was very quiet laughter.
Obviously my sleep on Saturday night was of the passing out variety, so it was impossible for me to even attempt to get to dance class yesterday. RK called me a zillion times in the morning but I was pretty much catatonic. I woke up, though, when he sent me a message telling me that my famous luck had reasserted itself and my dance class had gotten cancelled. It has been RK's eternal grouse with me, ever since our university days, that whenever I have decided to miss a class on account of sleep or laziness or sleep induced laziness, that class has invariably gotten cancelled. He had thought that with time, either I would get more responsible or it would get more difficult for me to get away with my escapism. Ha, RK, I still rule.
I was sufficiently recovered by the evening to haul myself to Juhu beach for yet another round of Profound Conversation with A. I had decided not to let last weekend repeat itself, and to this end I sent him a couple of snarky reminders to be on time. But when you're destined to wait, wait you will. Therefore I overestimated distances and train speeds and ended up reaching fifteen minutes early. I didn't fancy waiting alone for too long, so I called A and told him that I'd reached, in the hope that he would also get there earlier than scheduled. He, however, had this absolute gem of a response when I told him I was early. With some amount of flourish, he dismissed me, saying, "I am not used to such situations".
This is when I went back to Ye Olde Faithful, my ever loyal standby in times of Great Need, Kitkat, who gracefully rose to the occasion and entertained me for the next half hour. I'm so glad I'm taking the week long trip to Delhi at the end of this month. If there were no other reason for her brother to get married except to provide me with an excuse to go to Delhi, I'd make sure he got married.
I'm getting accustomed to Profound Conversation, I realize. I'm even getting used to having absolutely nothing to say sometimes, because it doesn't really matter. Isn't that wonderful? It is, because I say so. Ah, upbeat and happy again. I could get used to this.
I feel like I'm floating in a vat of the most fragrant, well-brewed tea. And I do enjoy my tea.
Oh, I stopped yawning. And now I should stop rambling too. Back to work (?!).