Now my mother is always of the opinion, that when I have an impending time crunching situation before me, a bus to catch, a road to cross, a deadline to miss, I have a tendency to pretend that I am in one of those badly made, over-dramatic movies, where everything is in slow motion right before the terrifying car crash, the one that I am unfortunately in, and thus scheduled for a reduction into a Heinz tomato ketchup induced molten metal.
I would of course disagree with her, vehemently, and perhaps start a well-timed argument regarding her interference in my life choices, well timed because my mom would be stressed about my impending situation to vehemently argue back that she actually saved me from marrying that no good tattoo artist, who probably is dying of post traumatic drug overdose, or one of those fancy sexually transmitted diseases.
But she had a point. I could never relax on a beach or spend an entire Sunday afternoon sleeping and ‘wasting’ my time, cos then I would be stressed at all the time I wasted. Anyway, to cut the rambling, it was in one of these relaxed situations, that I found myself chasing a bus to an important interview, with a barely tucked in shirt, and one leg in a pant, and the rest of the wardrobe streaming out of my bag, and a bagel stuffed into my mouth, when I realized that this time, I was not going to make it. The cab driver, the one that I had recruited post my enlightenment about my need to seek out stressful situations for the purpose of relaxation, decided to turn on the music, a soft Fur Elise piano rendition.
Now I don’t know if you guys agree on this, but think of a stressful situation, say you were supposed to book movie Continue reading