Guilt

As the 'Things to Do' list gets a life of its own and grows like its on something...24hours doesn't seem like the length of the day I would negotiate with God if I was deciding on the entire scheme of things in the day,month, year system. Each day ends with a stare at the number of things that remain unticked on the list, bleary eyes, a crank in the neck and then some negotiated sleep. An instruction to the body clock to wake up early to finish where I left off before the upper eyelid caressed the lower and said it will never let go. Random eye movement during sleep tries to keep pace with the buzz in the head. Newton Sir, I hate momentum. The good thing is the words in the head crystalise and then I can write this the first thing in the morning. (Those with loving husbands - Beware. Reaching out for the laptop as soon as you wake up, isn't something they appreciate or encourage. If you need to do it, do so at your own Risk) But as this little blurt comes to an abrupt end as I look at the watch, the next emotion I transition to is - Guilt. I still haven't finished where I left off. The day begins with a backlog.

Priorities

Everyday starts with writing down a long list of things to do. At times, the list runs into pages. Apart from serving as a reminder of things to be accomplished in the day, it really is serving as more of a wah-wah list. You look at it, scribble on it in front of a lot of people, strike the ones that are done, write new ones through the day, while others pretend to be in awe of the amount of work you do. It is perfect way of prioritizing the day.

In a recent stint away from the laptop, I discovered that priorities of a workaholic are primarily out of sync with basic human emotions but in perfect sync with misplaced notions that one creates for a living...or for that matter earning a living.

More on this later, right now the clock is ticking and I need to go create my priority list for the day.

an attempt at a definition

A compulsive workaholic, a woman, an Indian, isn't really a healthy mix. But that is what I am...at least as of now. I get worried when I don't get the words right on my script. It pains me when the shot isn't just right, I can't rest if the edit isn't in rhythm...I get sleepless nights, get distracted by twitter, by a song that a friend likes, spend days in guilt of not having given it my all. But what do you do when you have already given a lot and are waiting for the insides to fill up so that you can give up more? Write a blog.