Why I’m Feeling So Glamarous of late.


It’s always been sexy: The idea; the mental picture of yourself rushing down a hypothetic Boulevard; two coffees in hand,  3 purses and two shopping bags balancing precariously at the fulcrum of your elbow, with a cell phone in the other, and a dog leash holding cautiously between the central pivot of the index and middle finger where the car keys hold fast. Wearing sunglasses of course. Putting out a ciggy.  5 minutes to time. Trying to get somewhere.

Busy is glamorous. Busy is stimulating. Busy must be documented on social media. Go out there and look occupied. Look engaged. It’s fashionable in this culture.

It’s very easy. You need not accomplish anything at the end of the day. As long as you stepped out of the house and did shit. And complained about stress and depression.

This is my cultural narrative. A lifestyle that I’ve glorified. That you’ve glorified. But now when I ponder on it, I’ve never been sufficiently busy. Or rather, I hadn’t. Until four weeks ago when I was  bombarded with a shedload of shed to deal with. A good old seductive ensemble of Exams, presentations, Work, an election campaign, landlord issues, ‘friendship issues’, and a personal crisis.

I felt a sense of disappointment because It didn’t feel glammy. When I stepped out, i didn’t find myself on a fashion boulevard. I wasn’t wearing heels, and sunglasses, and 3 bags. I didn’t have a ciggy-poo, and i wasn’t holding a leash and two coffees. I’m afraid of dogs. And I don’t smoke. On the contrary, i tried to step out of the house. Sleep-deprived, red-eyed, frizzy-haired and dizzy, carrying a large bag with many documents and a change of shoes and repeated this for three weeks. And thence, I’ve decided that busy isn’t cute.

That I don’t’ feel glamorous, and that I most definitely could not cope. That it took the life out of me. I know it did, because for two days preceding this flirtation with ultra-busy, i decided that i wouldn’t leave my bed. That I wouldn’t pick-up my phone or answer my emails that day. Voice-mails could chill. That I couldn’t work, and my assignment could wait, and that my physical and mental health came first.

I know you can probably relate. You’re probably very busy, as you should be. As a good worker should be. An eager peasant. As a good slave to capitalism. You must wear your mind and body out and caption it. Be fashionable.

………And so I slept. And I’ve been sleeping, and slowing down, and eating well and catching up with friends, and heck i feel attractive. 😉

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