What’s in a day?

Can we catch a day? I mean, by it’s throat and shake that fucker and show some fists at it and inform it, screaming, slow the fuck down!

What do we accomplish in a day? Most days nothing. For the majority of us a weekly performance report is a name saver. If we don’t give ourselves a week to finish a page of the project report we would be constrained to kill ourselves in shame. We are the masters of postponement tactics. Netflix, Insta, Youtube and Reddit are not helping. Well, they are helping but not for the basic ‘achieve your destiny’ kind of helping. We are losing the forest for the trees. And one fine day, after decades of dilly dallying away our lives we will be lounging somewhere and it would hit us like a truck that we missed the train. The motto ‘it’s never too late’ is carrying us to our unmarked graves along with our immeasurable potential, unused. The next time someone says that age is just a number double dare his granny for a hundred metre dash with your 10 year old niece. What we need is a nice round kick on our ass to get shit done. Our bucket list is getting rusty.

Our days are numbered, so they say. How many? We say. Four thousand weeks, the book I am reading right now says. Thats ridiculous, right? No. We are so done with the mysteries of this life. We might as well have remained as monkeys, eating, shitting, fucking and calling it a day. One down of the four thousand.