Bad girls do it well?!

There are times when I wish I wasn’t so chicken.

Remember this song:

Live fast, die young
Bad girls do it well
Live fast, die young
Bad girls do it well

It is tiring being the good, disciplined girl. There are times I wish I was a little more carefree, that I wish I wasn’t overly committed to work, or I wish I’d care a damn before bunking or taking leaves. In my case, leaves have always been accompanied by a fair amount of guilt. I wish I wouldn’t feel too guilty about taking a sick leave so that I can save my annual leave. Every dear soul on earth does that. You get life only once, then why feel guilty about using your ‘own’ time doing things you really like. Why feel guilty about taking a day off, just so you could do all those things on your personal bucket list that keep getting pushed to be bottom of the pile. Why feel guilty about a little pleasure? Why do some people (like me) take sadistic pleasure out of being ‘overworked’? Yes, people do that sometimes. They fail to draw a line between work and life. Especially whose work and life are not overlapping. They miss a dear friend’s wedding, because they are too busy, and too chicken to apply for a leave. They feel that if they leave work place for one day, people will forget them, their good work will be forgotten, and their promotion will be given to someone else. I am that person sometimes. I don’t like myself when I am like that.

I hate myself for being the ‘good’ girl sometimes. I always was. Even back in college, I rarely missed a class, because it came with a huge bag of guilt. While everyone else had a rollicking time, my feelings were always in the grey zone – wishing to miss a class and being part of the fun but at the same time not being able to miss that class. And constantly thinking about the fun and frolic my friends had outside the class. I must have missed out on so much fun. I must have missed out on so many moments of bonding and friendship. If I did bunk, my joy was punctured by thoughts of lessons I missed. As a result, I never was truly able to savour or relish any one type of feeling and was always thinking about ‘what if’.  I wish I was more carefree. I so wish.

Live fast, die young
Bad girls do it well
Live fast, die young
Bad girls do it well

This is a pattern and this has to change. Even to this day, I feel guilty about watching a movie or just lazying around the house when I could be engaging myself in more productive things over weekends.  Like taking on freelance content writing assignments that would bring in some extra money, or reading something knowledgeable or intelligent that would add some value to life or intellect. So it makes me question myself? Is money (or knowledge in some cases) the only barometer of happiness (And this is totally self-imposed)? Would earning a few extra bucks make me happier? This is why I feel guilty. When I could be earning a little extra working on the weekends (even if I don’t wish to), why waste time watching a movie or doing fun things? My idea of productivity has to change.

There probably is a reason to this madness.  Time is money and time is precious. So if you are in an average job like I am, working 5-6 days a week, doing things you would rather not do if given a choice, you feel like you are wasting time.  And let’s face it. You have to pay the bills so you have to work.  There is hardly a choice there. That’s when you feel like you have to get maximum out of your weekend because the weekdays have no bandwidth at all to accommodate your personal favourite things to do. Your time during weekdays is not really ‘yours’. You have no control over your own time and that’s when it starts to feel really crappy. You feel like you are doing menial tasks just because you have to pay the bills. But if work was play, if work was fun, if work was things you love doing anyway, it wouldn’t feel so emotionally and mentally taxing. But not everyone is fortunate to turn their hobbies into profession. Not everyone is able to love/enjoy what they do.  And that is why this battle between the two voices in our heads will never really die out.

But hopefully for me, things are set to change. I have a plan. I am fed up of myself for being too chicken, too afraid and too calculative; for choosing the comfort and security of a mundane job over exciting and interesting things. I am at a stage in life where I have a choice, where I can choose, where we don’t have children to worry about. This is as good a time as it ever will be to do things differently, to rock the boat, to enter the unchartered territories, to come out of the comfort zone, to take a bit of a risk, to lose the regret and take the step. Hopefully it will all work out as I have planned. Watch this space for more. More details will come up soon.

And when that happens, when my weekdays will be filled with joy and satisfaction, then I will probably not feel so guilty about unwinding on a holiday.