Guilty

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It is way past my bedtime and am sorely going to regret being up this late when the morning run will be skipped. But, the guilt of not writing anything for one more night would have weighed heavily on my mind.

The weeks prior to this one were hectic with work and socialising. I decided to put a hard stop to work this week every evening, no matter what. Not just because I wanted to hit the gym and eat home cooked dinner every night but because I set the culture for my team. Sure, am new in the role, enthusiastic and want to do 100 things in the shortest time possible. But that is unfair to the people around me. Unlike me, they have friends and families to go back to. My working late puts the pressure on the others to stay back late in office. Most of my responsibilities are dependent on other people and not done individually. As hard as it is to come to terms with, the organisation is not going to fall apart if I end work on time. But my life, hobbies, goals, dreams and relationships surely will.

It has been a good week when there was sufficient time to workout, eat home cooked meals, read and Netflix. The only thing left out was blogging/writing. I wish I could write everyday. No matter what. Just 15 mins. That is it. Why is it so hard? Why does the thought of putting words on paper or typing them out exhaust me? Isn’t writing supposed to be rejuvenating? Or is it about taking the first step and everything else will follow? Just open the journal and stare at it for 5 mins. Everyday. Or open the webpage everyday? Let me try that.

People think spending time on social media is a waste of time and takes you away from more productive things. Social media makes me feel less lonely. I don’t feel the urge to resort to drinking or binge eating or calling random on my phone book. I guess, to each his/her own.

Ciao.


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