It is 3 am at night, you see Manny sleeping. Breathing hard he wakes up suddenly, checks the time in his mobile, it is 3 am... Duh! He says... 4 more hours... takes a sip of water and goes back to sleep again. It is 7 am now, mobile ringing... thats is his alarm. Snoozes it in greed of enjoying that early morning sweet sleep. Closes his eyes... rubs his feet together... smiling :-). Opens his eyes.... Damn!! It is 8:09 am!
Yeaa.... thats him... He is late again... Amazin how fast clock runs in the morning hours. And he just cant get up from the bed. First he'll raise his ass... sleeping in doggy style for about 5 mins, then stands up straight with the blanket still on, grabs his clothes and moves straight to the kitchen to make his cup of 1/2 asleep bed tea, doesn't know what ingredients he is mixin' in, but it smells like tea though. This is me, and that is my cup of tea to kick start my day.
Car is gone, I gave it away. Now I walk every day a couple of miles to office. It is cold, but I have a good jacket and a nice cap and a nice pair of shoes, fully geared for a walk to office. It is not a cubicle, it is a cell where psychopathic workers like me are caged for hours. Thats my workplace. Papers sheets spread on the whole table, a layer of dust on the screen only to make the places where fingers had pointed more distinct. Thats my 15.4 inch life, that people keep pointing fingers at. The sheets of paper have some cranky drawings on 'em, pictoral representations of the ideas that I get while I am sitting in the loo. Well, the second day, even I dont understand what I have drawn, all trash now. I fish out the iPod out of my junkyard (my schoolbag), put on a bhangra number, start shaking my shoulders slightly and there the day starts. It works with sardars, may be while driving a truck or punching in lines of code, bhangra kicks.
A usual hard working day ends, its time to head home, again the same 2 mile walk back to home, in that same chilly weather. I like it, it gives me that school days feeling slinging my bag to work and again slinging and jumping back home again... Helps me keep life simple :-) .
Yeaa.... thats him... He is late again... Amazin how fast clock runs in the morning hours. And he just cant get up from the bed. First he'll raise his ass... sleeping in doggy style for about 5 mins, then stands up straight with the blanket still on, grabs his clothes and moves straight to the kitchen to make his cup of 1/2 asleep bed tea, doesn't know what ingredients he is mixin' in, but it smells like tea though. This is me, and that is my cup of tea to kick start my day.
Car is gone, I gave it away. Now I walk every day a couple of miles to office. It is cold, but I have a good jacket and a nice cap and a nice pair of shoes, fully geared for a walk to office. It is not a cubicle, it is a cell where psychopathic workers like me are caged for hours. Thats my workplace. Papers sheets spread on the whole table, a layer of dust on the screen only to make the places where fingers had pointed more distinct. Thats my 15.4 inch life, that people keep pointing fingers at. The sheets of paper have some cranky drawings on 'em, pictoral representations of the ideas that I get while I am sitting in the loo. Well, the second day, even I dont understand what I have drawn, all trash now. I fish out the iPod out of my junkyard (my schoolbag), put on a bhangra number, start shaking my shoulders slightly and there the day starts. It works with sardars, may be while driving a truck or punching in lines of code, bhangra kicks.
A usual hard working day ends, its time to head home, again the same 2 mile walk back to home, in that same chilly weather. I like it, it gives me that school days feeling slinging my bag to work and again slinging and jumping back home again... Helps me keep life simple :-) .
