out of books

I could not believe I’ve ran out of books to read.

I didn’t have the financial liberty to visit the nearest bookstore and get new stock. The past two days’ purchases left me on a negative. Must wait until the next pay day. Have to prioritize bills over wants.

Don’t you have a thesis to work on? nagged a voice. But somehow, I may have gone numb over feeling guilty in not dealing with one of the final requirements to get that masters degree. And so I looked for books I’ve forgotten about in the humble apartment library. I did find something I missed reading.

So the Sunday reading began.

Come afternoon and I’m reminded that I haven’t really jogged for the week. I’m looking forward to dealing with the guilt that I’ve accumulated over a week of indulgence. So I went for the jog; half the rounds I’m used to. That took care of some of the week’s guilt.

There’s basically two ways of feeling productive over the weekend. Either you read a book with the assumption that you’d get something from it – inspiration, new information, etc – or you jog to take care of the food you appreciated after the last jog.

This particular Sunday, the reading part wasn’t enough. It needed to be balanced with a more budget friendly jog.

So the jogging is more like the penance for indulging in sugar in all its forms and carbohydrates. It’s the one time one gets to think without the mobile phone or knocks on the door or falling to sleep. It’s a source of fulfillment. One sets the number of rounds you aim for and you spend the next two hours (or more) completing the rounds – jog or walk. At the final round, there’s an assured sense of achievement. No matter how many unpleasant things took place in the past week. That final round deals with all the disappointments.

And finally, when all one’s troubles keep one from sleep, a complete set of rounds will drain one enough to secure a good night’s sleep – worries and all.

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