Late Evening Epiphany

Some days I get really engrossed in work or worry about finishing something quickly or staying on top of things. And I decide I’ll take my laptop home and read up on this in advance at home and set the stage for tomorrow.

Today was one of those days. I decided I’ll go home and catch up on work a bit. And then I went for my yoga session and proceeded to tie myself up in knots. Halfway through the session, while I was lying painfully contorted on the floor, my brain said – Fuck it. And I abandoned all thought of wasting my precious night on work.

There’s many reasons I like these yoga sessions. But tonight I hit upon one of the more obscure ones; something I hadn’t managed to put my finger on before. 

If you work 9-10 hours a day, spend 2-2.5 hours commuting, and 6-7 hours sleeping. There’s precious little left over.

Sometimes it takes mild physical pain and complete and utter exhaustion to remind you of what’s real. For ten hours a day, it’s the ideas that you work with. But the rest of your time is yours.

Happy you-time, Zonk.
Love always,
K.

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Author: Kirtana K

I paint and make music and blog like a maniac. These days I try to run. But I have chicken legs and lungs the size of two-rupee balloons. I fail. I like pajamas and striped socks and books that read like song and songs that sound like poetry and strangers who read this page. And Maggi when I'm sick or cold or sad or celebrating. They'll find noodles in my veins if ever they cut me open. And potatoes. And maybe a tiny bit of whiskey. I'll be an Unidentified Living Object and they'll put my insides on display. It will be crazy. It will be awesome. It will.

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