There is so much beauty and joy in not having to brush your teeth in under a minute. To just stand and enjoy the view from the balcony rather than your sleep-deprived face as it stares back at you from your bathroom mirror. Feeling the brush massage each and every one of your teeth whose existence you had never felt before. Pure, therapeutic bliss. Makes you feel like the king of the world. The only true owner of your precious time.
It was some time ago that I realized how my life had been taken hostage by two apparently harmless things – my cell phone and my bedroom clock. Back then, I really didn’t have any idea how to free myself from the shackles of these two modern marvels. Starting yesterday, however, I have made the conscious decision to assert myself. My cell phone is meant only for me to be able to talk to people I need (and vice versa), not to frighten me out of sleep in the afternoon when I catch forty winks. You can’t imagine how cranky that makes me for the rest of the day. As it is I can’t remember half the things I talk about after IST 22.00.
I have officially served my mobile a restraining order- not to come less than eight feet near me. That’s basically the distance between my bed where I spend my entire day (regardless of whether I’m awake or in dreamland) and the table where I’m gonna banish my cell to. Calls I will be answering promptly, but as far as messaging goes, no frantic messaging within 2 seconds of receiving one. I will be responding to all the junk in my inbox after intervals of half hour each. And definitely no fiddling with my cell while studying or while indulging in some much-needed “me-time”.
That takes care of one demon. Tackling the other seems to be a much bigger problem. Well, as long as I can brush my teeth away to glory twice a day, I’ll live with it. Maybe that ten minutes of control over my time is all I need to boost my confidence. Did you say optimistic ambiguity, eh? I prefer to call it one little step at a time.
P. S.
Just realized that while I was typing this entry in, my cell was a bare six inches away from me. Better add some clause and sub-clauses to that restraining order.
