I woke up at 5.45 am today and found my gym clothes hanging by the bed, cleaned and fresh. I drank a litre of water like I should and wasted no time scrolling through social media feeds. During the hour I pumped iron, three people complimented my form and when I checked my BMI, it had dropped two more points. I went back home to a lukewarm shower and my outfit for the day was already pressed, lint-rolled, and ready. My hair was being fabulous, the right amount of shine, just a little bounce. My Classic 350 was gleaming in the sunlight and the tank was full. The roads were clear and the clouds went skittering across the blue-grey sky. I reached work in 20 minutes flat to a plate of steaming hot poha. The canteen bhaiyya’s ginger tea hit all the right spots today and the talk I had with my colleague cleared a lot of cobwebs. I cut through my files for the day like a hot knife through butter. My boss called me at the end of the day to tell me that I was invaluable, that the team could not function without me, and that she had revised my appraisal cycle to give me a well-deserved promotion. I came back home, twinkle-toed, and Gypsy, my cat, let me pick her up and play with her like she used to when she was a baby. I treated myself to an elaborate home-cooked meal with all my favorites because I’d already meal-prepped during the weekend and the power stayed put (#inductionstoveproblems). After a couple of episodes of comfort-watching House MD, off I went to bed marveling at the perfect day I had.
P.S: PFFFFFT. YEAH RIGHT.
P.P.S: If your Mondays are like this, then I admire and detest you in equal parts.
