After an hour or two of the daily evening walk, I tell myself that I should go back home and read. But sometimes, I want to keep walking with my friend. I want to sleep at 4 am after Netflixing zombie movies back to back. I want to wake up late and then write and let the day design its schedule.
But during those zombie movies, I keep looking at the watch. The MacBook throws the battery low warning, but I don’t plug in the charger as I want the computer to sleep its natural course. And then we can sleep too. But then we stay awake some more and talk about our lives.
As every hour passes by, I realize that my waking up time is getting shifted by one hour and that I had to sleep early and start the next day with a fresh run in the morning. But I continue the conversation as that was what I wanted to do at that moment.
And the next day, when I start writing at 11, I brood over the valuable time that I lost by getting up late.
Why can’t we do what we want to do when we want to do?
Why do we think about the future — the most uncertain and unpredictable — and not about now?
What do we want out of life?
Why do we wait for Sundays for lunch with our family?
Why do we make a house and live in it and go to the office and come back to do the same all over again?
How do we choose between ambition and happiness?