Prose before hos

The art of non-confrontation has reached the ADHD part of my brain; I'm fully in hyperactivity mode. Without revealing the timeline and exact order of business, I found myself attending a meeting on one laptop, sending a voice note, chrome window shopping, researching EDP with base notes of citrus and deflecting difficult conversations with the man of the hour. 

Do you generally ignore topics you dont want to discuss or is it something else?

I don't know, man. 

Do I generally find myself wondering if I should buy a Brazillian bum cream or an EDP I don't need in the middle of an economic crisis and no increase in my comp? Do I find an hour-long solidarity call overbearing cause I have to focus on one screen where I'm screen sharing and explaining workflow and ethos all at once? However, the lord knew I needed to give working across multiple screens a break, a work day that goes on longer than usual with loud noises in the background and a disgruntled dog who won't move. It's been mad real and I intend to stretch this hyperactivity for as long as I can. 

To be honest, I don't want to discuss the benefits of buying perfume over bum cream. I also don't want to write a long paragraph that says we will part ways, sooner than we need to. 

If I ever get a time machine, I would go back to 2014 and choose to restart the ugliest, most horribly lonesome points of my life differently. I think the wisdom of choosing better and not cooler has taken a decade but it's an outtake for life. Everyone who chose to be a fucking sellout and cringe a decade ago is thriving, while the rest of us are maxing the self-imposed credit card limit to buy lipsticks, perfumes and eye make up we don't need. 

Also, a notable addition to my hyper-activity is make-up. I've gone from thinking about it to acting on it to now actively considering a skincare routine. Deflection works on a passion level as well; if I can deflect about honing my existing hobbies by acquiring a new one, then welcome me to your eye-make-up club. I will apply the eye shadow all over my cheeks (ACCIDENTALLY) and wait three months to buy a setting spray. 

I did send the essay out, and did learn about celebrity holograms being a thing and that Happy is a great choice for teenage scent and that my friend at work likes the man I like but doesn't think his music is for Christmas. She did also ask me to start investing, ugh. 

I'm investing in my ADHD practices, babe. 

One of the few constants since the pandemic began, or rather pre-pandemic has been around the weather. For all the chatter in the world around climate change and how we can witness the effects trickling into our day-to-day, I raise you my familiar winter cycle, that's neither a day late nor early. 

Period-0, Weather in Delhi-1.

Winter officially sets in Delhi (for me) from November 14, when the fan on the top speed feels chilly but no fan feels stuffy. You don't need the air conditioner for the workout (even though you feel like death in the last 1 minute of your jumping jacks in the intense training program) and you no longer want to prance around in cotton shorts. You start window shopping for faux leather bombers and wonder if this will be the year when you invest in a Shacket (if I ever do, please feel free to ban my blog and never come back, I need a reality check). 

Winter also runs out fairly quickly (something under 100-105 days) by February 18. You feel the need to retire the tight sweaters and stuffy body-hugging polos. While the rest of the country takes another month, I am usually done by February 16 and bring back the air conditioning from Feb 24 for workouts. 

Three years ago, we marked Winter with the new season of the Crown at a public parking lot where I spent more time than I'd like to admit. Earlier today, when the winter breeze slapped my face in the same spot, I felt deja vu, like I was about to go through the same cycle again. However, there's one notable difference. 

I'm a lot calmer. 

It's like, the person I imagine consoling my younger self to be better and strive to be, I'm there. I spend all my waking hours walking towards my goals, tending to make life fulfilling and in pursuit of that, I find even writing tedious. This is probably the longest writing break I've had when I'm productive otherwise. I spend my time reading, watching and occasionally flirting with the man of the season (I've found a marvelous heartbreak for Fall-Winter '23). I catch up on things low-key, retire to my cocoon and find everything I need there. For the most part, peace lies in the predictability of movement. I've got my back; I've warded every single element out which I felt wouldn't align with my expectations and I've constantly tried to face my fears while doing that. I found myself in a familiar place where entering the apartment complex choked me but not without support. There were dogs, friends and friends like family to handhold me through moments I never thought I'd survive or live to try. 

I'm getting distracted by texts midway (and I'd never tolerate this shit, but it's Winter and we all need someone to hold on to and cuddle with), but everything about the days to follow will be predictable. Days will get shorter, my calm self will get pissed and by January, I'll be so unhinged that I'll intersperse crying with saying yes to all possible events and styling my hair in more ways than I can probably count, that is if situations remain predictable. 

The way in which our world moves and lives are shaped is not inherently controlled by us. The apolitical bunch on dating apps wouldn't know but for those of us who do, we are one inflammatory remark or action away from a full-blown crisis at all given times and 100+ days are a lot to challenge for predictability if the world is unkind to infants on the basis of their geographical location and passport details. 

What I'm saying is, I'm not looking forward to the Winter and I definitely don't want to write. I want to hide in my bedroom with my book and park myself to only respond to 5 people (including my employer because we all need capital).