5 deadly sins...

Pouring rain, a boring office cube; a painfully bright computer screen; throbbing finger tips courtesy keyboard pounding, a denim-clad bitch who is all snooty when she imagines she’s hot; piles and piles of rubbish on the desk that reads ‘work’ and boring bald-headed bachelors who call up to strike conversations with non existent brains! Usually these things prompt me to write -- Anything — an elegy, a scrap on orkut, or even a “to do or not to do” list. But today I simply gave up and decided that a day in the life of a journalist is anything but glamourous!

I am either frustrated or bored. The latter more likely. And you know what the worst crime is in the cool-as-a-cucumber-world of Christina? Boring her further. Shedding all my well rehearsed pretenses, polished-to-perfection manner and oh so beautiful masks, here I come clean. All my imaginary readers, if you are a part of my real world, and you identify with the truth that follows, don’t tell me I didn’t warn you…

Five signs that I am SUPER bored:

I reply to everything in monosyllables. I’m a wordsmith… I thrive on them. It’s not often you will find yourself talking and me listening. Well, I do listen, but I also pep up the conversation with my own dose of gyan, pinches of humour, and a whole lot of animated expressions. (My way of spicing up your drab conversations!). So if you ever hear me say “yes”, “No”, whatever, maybe, perhaps, well, sure, ok; that just means you have bored me beyond repair! At least for the moment. What you should do? Buzz off!

I ask you about random things... like your ex-girlfriend’s cellulite issues or your ugly pet who was on heat! I mean, if I bring up things about which I couldn’t care less, you know I am not one bit into the monologues you are so painstakingly delivering (after much thought in your head I am sure). Leave me alone. Get back after a while. If I am still like that, get the point! Your way too BORING.

Sigh! Sigh! Sigh! If that’s the only response you get from me, buddy, don’t even try. You are boring me not matter how hard you try to impress.

What else? Aur bolo…? And…? So…? You should temme…? If that’s what you hear from me, then you haven’t inspired me enough. I want you to speak and get over with it. Remedy? If you know I like you, suggest something fun to do. If you know you are trying and I am feigning ignorance… let me be.

You say something, I smile. A half smile. That just means I am wearing my mask of politeness sheerly out of force of habit. Long pauses in between words, coupled with a smile, just means I wish you were dead. Unless of course you are a bit of Richard Gere, John Abraham, SRK, P.G.Woodehouse, and… you get the picture… all packed into one!!!