wet moss

I will tell you about my day. Just to pen down in virtual ink what today was like.
Sleep came later than planned as I broke my early-to-bed schedule once again.
No, no more television. Just latelate night catching up and whispering into the phone.

Waking up to no driving, no walking, and no yoga.
Just Seconds of awareness before a welcome cold bath.
A resigned few hours spent out of the house in a location I am still to pinpoint in the messymap of Delhi in my head.
Coming home to a delivery request made to Dominos. I gave them good business, surreptitiously.
Surely more than 30 minutes later... it arrives.
A messy clump of maida, paneer and round-red-curls of chillie.
The ketchup at home ran out... rather.. fell into the plate and disappeared slowly.

Brunch I called it.

1 litre of water later.
Full-ness. And not the nice kind.
In-need-of-hollowness kind.

Herecomesthedawn.
Herecomesthedawn.
Scorching 5 pm and a drive around the old 5 kms.

9pm and dinner of dal and bhindi.
I can feel the maida in me.
Weighing these words down.
I feel it in the heaviness...around.

Not the best idea.
When will I become that wise woman who learns from the experience of others?