I was afraid of this. One minute you're sitting back watching reruns of popular sitcoms and the next minute... you're face down on the mattress while those popular sitcoms continue to play out their despicably fabulous existence. But wait, it isn't Tuesday any more. It's... WEDNESDAY.
How did I spend the last 24 hours?
WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?
No need to panic. Ok. Regroup.
Day 7 of Isolation.
The past week has been a blur. The past hour is no different. I watch television with my glasses off so that when I fall asleep, the chances of me breaking them are exponentially reduced.
Things of significance: Iron Man 2, Party at Lonavala, Subway Visits. And sleep. But that's for my subconscious to decide.
Fast forward to Day 14.
I was unusually on edge today. But that was this morning.
A few more days of this imposed solitude and then back to regular-willingly-brought-upon solitude. I feel excessively comfortable lying on the cold floor with my eyes open.
The drive back from Bombay was an introspective one. (Couldn't be helped; my passengers were asleep!) "No need to get excited" the way Jimi Hendrix sings it, played over and over in my head. I need to write. So many ideas, so little time is usually the justification I give myself. But who am I kidding. I am fighting with my mind about whether sloth is actually a marketable quality.
I am the Steve Jobs of sloth. I need to get to know the things I know. I need to get coffee.
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