I just spent this weekend attending a Bengali-Mallu wedding. I ought to be pretty happy, you should think, considering that I am not yet at that age when I think I'm getting too old and my options are dwindling. But I'm not. For one, I'm completely exhausted having gotten very little sporadic sleep. Right now, I can almost feel the bags under my eyes, but it's too early to sleep. I am yet to have dinner, and I shall sleep after that. However, when I'm in this state, I'm usually frustrated and angry. I've spent the greater part of my evening playing cricket on my computer. I'm depressed and lonely because I can't think of a single person to call and whine to, and I can't crib to mum and have her take care of me because I'm at the other end of the country from my family. I don't feel like calling anybody from my little black book (on my phone) either, I'm not very kicked by any of them at the moment. I don't feel like writing a mail.
Speaking of writing, I started this month with a mission - to write 50,000 words in one month. My novel should have been nearing completion now. I started the month well enough and I drove through over 10,000 words in just over a week of concentrated writing. However, after that I just lost interest and steam, despite well-intentioned pushes and prods from well-meaning friends and critics. My book has remained in exactly the same state as it was 2 weeks ago. I have done almost no writing in the last 2 weeks, not in my book, not on my blog, save for a few words in an article that I need to finish.
I am disgruntled. I am sick of it all. There is only so much I can do on my computer and on the internet. I need to get out of the house and do stuff outside, but living without transportation in Delhi can sort of nip that in the bud pretty quickly. I started drum classes this past week in a bid to achieve the above as well as tune up my drumming skills. The instructor didn't turn up the first class, so I went crazy on the drums, not having been on the throne for about 6 months, and had fun. The instructor did turn up the second class, and he quickly cut me down to size and made me play a waltz beat for the rest of the class, softly. It looks like he'll make me play different rhythms every class, because that's probably the proper way to condition a drummer who's been largely self-taught. He probably hasn't heard of Keith Moon. So, one month later, instead of gaining more independence, I'll probably be able to gain temporary employment in a wedding band. We always used to joke about how the biggest competition to The Unlike No Ones was the Maharaja Band in Bopal.
I am disgruntled. I am sick of it all. And I don't want to go to work tomorrow. As far as my job is concerned, I'm flogging a dead horse. I nearly put in my papers a few times this month, but I didn't. A new boss is joining next month, so I thought I'll stick around till then. Then I'll stick around for another month or so, breaking the new boss in, maybe doing an event. Then, if the new boss is good, I might stick around for another month. That puts me in the middle of February. Since I have to attend a wedding of 2 good friend-batchmates of mine around this time, I'll come back enthusiastic enough to stick around for another month. Towards the end of March, we have a nice huge fun conference that everybody who went for the previous one keep raving about. So I'll be enthused enough to stick around for another month. That puts me in the middle of April. Then, with nothing else to look forward to except the harsh summer of Delhi, I will put in my papers. The one month notice period, if I choose to serve it, will put me in the middle of May. My mother's birthday is on May 7. And so it will be that I will find myself back home in Bengaluru in early May, with another job or freelancing. Quite a plan, eh?