Some days (probably in your teens or early 20’s) you wake up feeling radiant, ready to conquer your dreams. Other days you wake up with a pulled back, no appetite, and a fan that blows nothing but false hope. Guess which day I’m having?

I did a grand total of ten deadlifts at the gym last week before my lower back decided it was done. Not sore. Not tight. Done. As in “I guess we’re lying on the floor now” done. This is why I don’t chase abs—I chase chairs with good lumbar support. SIGH!!

Meanwhile, summer has decided to crank up the heat like it’s trying to grill me personally. My skin is sticky, my hair has declared independence, and my once-beloved oversized T-shirts now feel like portable saunas… To make things weirder, I have no appetite. Me?!!! Some kind of sick joke from God.. The woman who once planned her entire vacation around snack stops starting from the Starbucks at the Delhi airport… I look at food and go, “Meh.” It’s deeply unsettling. Am I evolving? Dying? Both? Probably…

And then—the cherry on top—my husband is away… Which shouldn’t bug me as much as it does, but here I am, deeply irrationally irritated by his absence like he’s gallivanting (while working) as I slowly dissolve into a heatwave-induced existential crisis. I don’t even want help—I just want someone to suffer beside me and then decide that its time for a much awaited European holiday where I have no shopping budget and no raised eyebrows on the amount of time I spend in the casino slot machines!

So here I am: cranky, mildly injured, vaguely hungry but too annoyed to chew, and definitely overheating both physically and emotionally. It’s a whole vibe. A very unpleasant, deeply relatable, adulting-in-India-in-June kind of vibe. But like all things—this, too, shall pass….or at least shift into a new kind of chaos that I can write about soon.

Stay sweaty. Stay dramatic. Stay tuned.

Till later!