Yawn!

The worst part of a really hard week is the weekend. No, I’m not kidding you! It’s really like that! All the work that you have to do for yourself somehow finds a way to just pile itself out, and leave you with no choice but to deal with them on the two days that you hope to catch up with some shut eye. God alone knows how this happens! Well I think that’s exactly what every chronic procrastinator’s going to give you.

Anyways, this weekend was one of the worst I’ve had in the recent past. It was Diwali. So there was loads to do at home. And then there was the freelance that you never find time for during the week. So, deadline on head, I work from 10 am Diwali morning to 8 am the next day, finish it, deliver it by 12, and get down to edit a film at the studio. (Which, by the way, found exactly that very day to go horribly wrong.) Work all night again, and get the first glimpse of the bed at 9 am the next morning.

That’s 48 hours non-stop.

Ok. So I finally hit the bed. Then what. 2 hours in, the phone (@#%&@!) decides to scream its tonsils out. Up again. I deal with the phone, something else comes up. It’s evening soon and there’s that hot girl waiting for me to catch a movie. So I catch the movie, down a couple of beers and head home at 3 am to hit the bed. The next thing I know, it’s 7 am on Monday and time to rush back to the grind.

Status now. Awake: 64 hours. Asleep: 6 hours.

Now, like all Mondays, this one was a bitch. And I ended up getting screwed around till 2 in the night. And then I hit bed. It’s 6 am and mom needs something real bad. So off I am scratching my backside, running errands with dog breath.

Situation. Awake: 96 hours. Asleep: 10.

By now, I feel completely out of my skin. I have goose bumps every 7 and a half seconds and yawn every other minute. I decide for the 37th time in 2 minutes to tear the pharynx out of Himesh Reshammiya. I hate tube lights, my art partner’s ultra sonic sneezes, laughter, the sound of a mouse click, and the entire species of client servicing. And I feel like I’ve had 71 cups of coffee.

Again, the day has a mind of its own. And I reach my bed at around 4 am. I decide that you have to be really demented to take clothes to sleep and sleep with my left shoe on. 7 am, and the damn alarm. Arrgh!

Awake: 120 hours. Asleep: 13 hours.

It’s 10.32 pm on Wednesday right now. And I have not the faintest how and where I’m gonna end this.