Blahg!

I wrote this a few months before she came:
Motu is my friends 18 month old Labrador. He is everything she didn’t want at this point in her life (professional as well as personal) and he is the only thing that she looks forward to on a bad day. And a good day. And even on a not so happengin day. And of course, every day! Anything that ties you down, not at gun point but by mere existence is a Motu now on.

There are quite a few Motus in my life. A few of them can survive without me, but it would be just survival. What more does one need? Oh there is all that crap about living and not surviving for the sake of it. Enjoying life and not letting time tick by. Then there is this little bundle of pain, anxiety, uneasiness, fear and worst of all, limitless joy that’s to come.

If once it was difficult for me to plan running away and starting afresh, now the mere thought sends me on a headache-ridden guilt trip. Now I am going to be responsible for the little monster all set to turn my life upside down. She is not even here and I eat as per her fancy. Sleep has gone for a toss and size XS is history.

Come to think of it, I have no reason right to whine. Serves me right for taking things for granted. Serves me right for acting like a 7th grader (I’m sure they are way smarter than I’m at 25) who thinks that before the stork, a crow will pass by warning you of the arrival and I’ll just have to glare the dog away. (The dog is fine, by the way. Annoyingly excited about the kid. Already planning things that make me role my eyes and clench my jaws.)