J turns thirty today. Happy-birthday-darling! :)
Even as I make fun of her for having reached her dotage, she snidely reminds me that atleast she's thirty with a marital prospect and the happy possibility of blue-eyed children. What, she asks me, have I? I feel like turning theatrical on her and saying 'mere pass maa hai', except mommy is scheduled to depart tonight and I don't even have that. Oh-well. Close-to-thirty and single, or not, I have so much more than others around me and for that itself I should be happy. Except I'm not. I can understand why Satan looked at us ungrateful creatures and ask God, 'What, I'm supposed to bow down to 'that'!' I sympathize. Truth is, human-beings are horrible. Left up to me, I'm not sure I'd want to worship my kind either. But then again, I suppose it is the way it is and we 'must' have 'some' redeeming qualities, which I'm sure will surface if we look hard enough.
Incidentally, I managed to acquire yet another Peter-Pan wannabe to add to the limited roster of my admirers-in-Islamabad. Will somebody tell me why I always attract the kind of man no sane woman wants to be with? I have come to the conclusion it's not them, it's me. Clearly, there's something written on my forehead which says 'Potential Mind-Fucks, Please Apply'. I think I need to find the sign and replace with another one that says 'Serious Candidates Only, Pliss'. Then (and only then) will I be able to find peace, methinks.
And speaking of serious candidates, I have managed to strategically avoid a meeting of my mother and the colleague vis-a-vis Pathan boy. I am quite pleased with myself right now. I figure if the 'elders' don't meet, there is no chance of me offending anyone with an abrupt refusal. As it is, I've been warned that them Pathans don't take rejection well. I can't blame them, for nor do I. That said, 'I' haven't been known to honor-kill anything,and thus it would be wisest to stay away from that particular species. Plus I have it on the best authority that J would never forgive me if I died and gave her yet another tragedy to add to her tragic life story. What-to-do, friends must be considerate I suppose. And, it 'is' her birthday after all. *sigh*
Work is maddening and bound to get worse. I keep getting flak from the boss about not working hard enough, and about the back-log I have piled up. At the same time I keep getting even more flak from friends about working too hard and never having time to party anymore. Between these two opposing forces I think I shall slowly go insane trying to burn the candle on both ends and make everyone happy.
Did I say two forces? Perhaps I should mention a third: Gym has taken over my life. This stupid health kick means I can't eat out with friends-who-dine-on-junk. From Monday to Saturday night my life is heavily regimented. I have also been ordered to stay off the substances (since there is a correlation between a life of dissipation and fat cells in the body) and I comply because I have no wish to torture myself three times a week without effect. Essentially, work and work-out filled weeks mean weekends where all I want to do is crash, and all I'm allowed is kosher, PG-18 fun. Such-a-pity my life is turning out to be.
Anyhow, since the discussion just transitioned to work, now would be the time I feel guilty about wasting time monologuing on my blog and get back to the grind. Until we meet again, my lovelies! Ciao-ciao!