I love doing what I am told specifically not to do. I have to; it’s common this feeling, but I am sure it is not this strongly hewn into anyone’s nature. I was rebellious and I had no clue of what being obedient meant. I just went on doing my thing my way. Always.
Last night I was up till late finishing up some urgent work. Till about two in the morning that is. I had finished my yoga class and I got back home early for once, and in a bout of hunger I finished my dinner at seven. I had fruit, bread and eggs and some totally WOW chocolate pastry. After which I went out with mommy and returned by around ten. Now the night stretching before me with so much work to do, was not the best of feeling.
My mother dearest is a health freak, a lot more than I am. She hates the common bakery breads because they are all wheat flour or ‘maida’. My granny on the contrary loves them. So she had a loaf of white bread sitting in the kitchen. I made my way to it at one in the morning, took four slices and two huge pots of mayonnaise and peanut butter. I sat down on the floor in front of the idiot box and had a literal spread. My weird hour snack to quench a weird hour hunger, which made me brush again, after I had nicely wound up for the day. But a nice midnight snack anyway.
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