Monday morning blues

I struggle to make the time to keep this commitment. But, I fear I am fighting a losing battle. Work has taken over my life in the way no jealous lover ever could beore. I am consumed by the long hours this relationship requires. The infantile demands on my time drive me to despair. I count every moment till the weekend and then-- blissful sleep. Hours and hours of it.

But other demands clamour for my attention and shout out that they have to be met too. Relatives and friends mingle into a kaleidoscope of clashing, jangling brilliants-- as I swoop from one to the next in a blur of social activity. The whirl leaves me in a swoon on the cluttered Sunday bed. A heap of tired muscle and screaming sinew that has no choice but to ready itself for the onslaught of the ignored infant.

The rooster crows. Another day has begun.

Bleary eyed, I tear myself out of the warm cocoon, and stumble around picking up the pieces. I paint my face back on, and go through the motions of reclaiming myself from the nether realms rather nonchalantly. I bundle myself into my skin, and throw myself into the act of waiting for the monster that will tear through the foggy morning, as it trundles along inexorably closer to the hungry day.

The gears clang loudy and the horns blare as I droop on the seat in the wilting brown bus as it lurches its unsteady way in on the Monday.

Another week begins with me trying hard to quieten the fledglings' cries for attention.