Premature

Nope, this isn't about preemie babies. And hence, read on :).

Recently, on a Friday afternoon, when I expressed to a friend that I was feeling lazy to get work done even though I had piles to do, she (with good intention) suggested I create a to-do list of my priorities and start working on them. Obviously, she meant well. For some reason, I couldn't help grinning at the idea. Because if there is one thing about me that tops my list of quirks, that would be my obsession to write to-do lists.

From what I need to be doing at work, to my chores at home, to what activities I have piled up in my spare time- everything is a to-do list. And when I'm done with one, I start creating more. If there was a way to set a to-do list to tell my mind about what to think about next, I would do it too. Its a perennial joke with my sister who spares no bone in taking pot shots at my expense. She has a similar outlook towards my anal retentive attitude towards revising for tests and exams. When she learnt I act in plays her first question was how many times I had re-re-revised the dialogues.

Be that as it may, this isn't about showing off my meticulous habits. Its about how I recently realized I left my childhood a long time ago. Prematurely, without being conscious of it. I don't recall the last time I did something childish and reckless and with the kind of abandon that comes from impulsive actions. I seriously don't. It almost seems like I was born with a sense of maturity and responsibility far beyond my years. And that is a sad realization.

One of the invariable side-effects of growing up prematurely is the fact that seriousness becomes a way of life. I can't remember the last time I did something impulsive, or rash or reckless like the last picture in this post .