I like my weekends unplanned. I’m currently trying to handle a dozen things in my life which require constant time and effort. Sometimes my role in certain situations has gotten me to sacrifice my lunch, sleep and even sanity. In the past one year, I’ve been (surprisingly) socializing to an extent that the act of maintaining relations is my umbrella AND my rain.
Every person you meet in the walks of life has something to tell you which you do not already know. So in order to grab everything I can, I hang out and laugh around with relatively different types of people. I think I’m doing pretty well at all my jobs by committing proper efforts towards each, but this is where I fail:
An average day for me involves such interesting stories, I’m compelled to tell my mom about them. And that’s one hell of a tiring conversation. Because I’m the one who does all the talking. When I get up late on a saturday, relieved that I have 2 days completely to myself, my mom asks me “what my plan/schedule for today is”. And every saturday, I reply with the same word, “nothing.”
That’s because I have all other days so fucking planned out. I don’t know what I’ll do 20 hours ahead of me okay? Maybe I’ll binge a show. Maybe I’ll go over at a friend’s. Maybe I’ll spend the 48 hours on my favorite couch staring at the window. I don’t mind doing nothing because it is so rarely that I get to do so. In my most natural state, I’ll be introverted for say, six days in a row and then on the seventh day I’ll become very extroverted… Then I’ll have to go back inside myself… It’s something I can’t really control. My friends at college have successfully misunderstood me as someone who likes her book open. It’s a bit like the ocean and the tides. I need my personal space to do things I like, if not enjoy.
Leave me alone on weekends…