May 17th 2011, 6:33 am
Waking up is such a chore. Your head wants to sleep and so pretends to be a boulder. Your conscience, on the other hand, wishes to speed up your heartbeat since you know there's a lot of work to finish. So I let myself watch this battle between boulder and conscience for I was in no mood to get to the breakfast table.
For three minutes, boulder sank my body into the bed. It rolled from side to side and wouldn't let my neck support it. In the fourth or fifth minute, conscience flashed a whole set of documents I had to edit and send to the project manager, to the reviewer, to the SME, etc etc. The photographs were pretty graphic: 87 pages of unedited grammar that stank like the trenches of Mahim creek peered at me and my boulder. There were no islands of clean sentences and definitely no paragraphs adrift with freedom from punctuation errors... Red marks dotted the margins and comments flew around each page searching for dustbins of horrific syntactical structures and incoherency of matter...
I left my bed ten minutes later for conscience had won! Breakfast will be done in a while and my steps will trod the bylanes and tracks so familiar to anyone walking with an intention to earn some bread, some butter, and some pieces of paper.
Waking up is such a chore. Your head wants to sleep and so pretends to be a boulder. Your conscience, on the other hand, wishes to speed up your heartbeat since you know there's a lot of work to finish. So I let myself watch this battle between boulder and conscience for I was in no mood to get to the breakfast table.
For three minutes, boulder sank my body into the bed. It rolled from side to side and wouldn't let my neck support it. In the fourth or fifth minute, conscience flashed a whole set of documents I had to edit and send to the project manager, to the reviewer, to the SME, etc etc. The photographs were pretty graphic: 87 pages of unedited grammar that stank like the trenches of Mahim creek peered at me and my boulder. There were no islands of clean sentences and definitely no paragraphs adrift with freedom from punctuation errors... Red marks dotted the margins and comments flew around each page searching for dustbins of horrific syntactical structures and incoherency of matter...
I left my bed ten minutes later for conscience had won! Breakfast will be done in a while and my steps will trod the bylanes and tracks so familiar to anyone walking with an intention to earn some bread, some butter, and some pieces of paper.
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