Scrubbed Clean!

In all these years of going to the parlor for my monthly cleaning, scrubbing, de-hairing and overall, trying to look more presentable, I have never felt THIS scrubbed clean ever before. 

On this visit, the parlor had this new lady stylist; and maybe because I am among their less fussy, less difficult clients, they usually do not think twice before letting the new ladies  learn their parlor crafts on me. 

It really is tough being kind, you know. (That should be rewarded really, not punished!)

It's not that she was lazy or any less dedicated to her craft in any way. 

If anything, she was quite the opposite.

Yeah! No one's ever looked that happy at the
sight of blackhead removal things!
PC: Google Images.

So after the initial cleaning and steaming and such, her first important task, I think, was the removal of those yucky blackheads. And my! She seemed to be of the school of thought that  "no nose means no blackheads". 

While lying there getting those blackheads removed, which even under the gentlest of hands is a rather painful experience, my only thought was that I would be walking out without a single blackhead on my nose this time (Good job, girl!), considering I was going to be walking out without a nose (erm...).

And then started the massage. The brute strength on my blackheads should have been fair warning really, but my brain simply comforted me that that was only due to those ugly little blackheads she wanted off. She had no reason to hate my face so much, did she.

Well, apparently she did...

And all I could think of while lying there in that ugly, shapeless, parlor gown, was what people would think if I walked out of here with handprints on my face!

After the massage came the eyebrow threading and this time my brain had no excuses left to pacify me. I was trembling. 

When she descended on my brows with absolute dedication and determination to remove all that unseemly hair, all I could seem to think of lying there was, 'when I'm arrested for not having any eyebrows, would "it is my stylist's fault"be enough to bail me out'. 

She would do Wonder Woman proud, I say. 

Way to go, Girl Power. Or not so much! 

Ouch.

Why I stopped making lists!

I was a chronic list maker. From the time I worked in big firms where the only way to get through your next 100 activities was to have a prioritized list of top 20 tasks for the day TO when I stayed at home and planned the things I need to buy, the tasks I needed to complete to have the school admission documents set & ready and so forth, I loved writing it all down in a dated, numbered, to-do fashion in my little black book. And the best part was the tick-off. That satisfaction of completing a task was never really real till one could tick it off from the list. AND the satisfaction from completing the last task of the day, when you ticked off the page itself, whoa! that just cannot be replicated. So yeah, making lists is heady and very satisfactory.

But then like any thing that is heady and satisfying it has a definite downside. And mine was the stress. And probably the addiction.

So, as we all know, each task consists of a number of sub-tasks.
For eg., if one of my tasks said "Get XYZ layout from consultant TODAY!" it would involve me sending an official mail asking for the layout, then giving them a friendly call to make sure everything is on track and to know an approximate time when I could get the same;
There, in case the consultant needed some other detail before they could complete the layout in stipulated time, those had to be arranged for them (which included a couple more mails and calls to other parties) and so on.
So then, I would realize that it would take forever for me to tick off that one task from the list. But, if I couldn't tick things off from the list in a certain time frame I started feeling like I was getting nowhere, like things were not getting done and that it was a very unproductive day. Here I started fretting and stressing. So, in order to feel better and to feel like I have achieved something, I started listing out these little sub-tasks and then ticking them off!Of course, I also listed the sub-tasks so that I wouldn't forget even the smallest of them. Hence the stress and the addiction combined.

Now, the moment I broke down the 20 tasks into 5 sub-tasks each, I'd have a list of 100 tasks to be completed "on priority" today and just looking at it would push me over the edge. These tasks being things like small phone calls and email reminders which would otherwise just get done as part of a normal day without much thought.

The worst part was when I noticed this same trend repeating into everyday chores. The moment I started thinking about and listing down all I would have to do before I packed the kid off to school for example, I would already start fretting.

When things got totally our of hand and the stress mounted immensely, I just started ditching my list and getting through whatever I could get through. And with this was discovered peace of mind. Tasks get done with much less stress. Of course, old habits die hard and I still write small reminders and notes on the major things I simply cannot afford to forget for the day. But I have realized that most things just get done in their own time and we really don't forget the important ones so much. So much more breathing space and calm. Phew!

Why.

Do you suppose that among questions in general, "Why" is the more difficult and, for want of a better word, "Heavy" question to deal with. I mean, of course there are enough and more controversial questions that can be raised with "Who" and "Where" and so on; but I have always felt that "Why" is really the heavier one.

When something really hurtful or sad happens, a lot of us resort to wondering "Why" such a thing would happen. Or sometimes even, "Why me".

Tell a kid to do or not to do something and the first response is a very logical "why" or "why not".

Do something different from the rest, follow a path or make a choice in life that the majority may not make and you are plagued with "why"s. Why are you not married yet. Why no kids yet. Why are you doing this after studying so much. Why did you not continue pursuing your career.

I think it is obvious what prompted this thought. The last few days since The Reading Room began, I have been asked by many many people the reason for such a decision. It is especially the older folks who visit the store that seem pretty disappointed as to why I would give up on my flourishing career to open  a small venture of my own.

And the saddest part is words like "passion", "love", "choice" etc. are the most unacceptable of all. Not doing things the "acceptable" or "normal" way, not following the flock because of personal choices and then not having a more convincing (maybe even tragic) reply to their "why" is a pretty challenging spot to be put in constantly.

And if you do reply to the "why" with reasons close to your heart, the confusion and incredulity on their faces is a little bothersome mixed with amusing. I wonder Why.