When enough is just too much

You know when you were small, and you asked mom for your favorite candy? My mom had an interesting way of weaning me off these nasty habits. She would go out and buy a whole box of the same candy. As much as they would be able to sell her anyway. And then she would stuff the fridge with it. I usually never had the crave for the same candy ever again! Eating the same everyday, one gets a natural turn-off for these enamel obliterating sweeties.

This was how I grew up, and oftentimes how I conduct myself when I like something. I don’t dwell in mediocre moderation, I dive into the deep-end and ask, “That’s all you’ve got?”. No, I am not doing one of those Freudian “I have to attribute everything wrong with my life on mom” stunts, but I had an interesting weekend when I suddenly realized that I had enough of everything - that what’s missing became an enigma.

Am I too contented? Am I not thankful, as I probably should be counting my blessings rather then bitch about having too much? Have I lost my sense of adventure? I asked myself all these questions.

I realized this as I was nursing my SurfinTVnaholic, and found that I couldn’t do it anymore. Not for a second more.

I have had enough of TV, and I ponder if this placid existential activity should be taboo! From AXN all the way to MTV, nothing could keep me glued. I was dumbfounded, what happened? Then I decided that maybe I was too slack, and decided to get into my shorts and shoes for a run.

I ran.

Twenty five minutes later sweaty and drained, I still felt that something was missing. I walked a bit more, and hoped that it will come to me. What am I missing? What is nagging on the coat-tails of my soul that I should be paying attention to? I am as lost as I was at the beginning of this quest.

Flummoxed and mystified I realized one thing though. My mind was on overdrive. I was reeling from my thoughts of looking at myself in the third-party so much, that I became conscious of the obsessions that haunts me. I was writing about me, hence I had some sort of an out-of-body experience! This is daunting. I am scared of me! I fear what I say about myself. And now with all of you reading about me, I feel like there is this huge magnifying glass burning into my being. I am sorry that you are reading this entry, but I felt that the only way I can find peace for now is to profess my fears. Did this make sense? I wouldn’t know. But did it make me feel better? Well it is better then the TV and running, I’ll give it that. So my conclusion? Perhaps there will come a time, when enough is actually too much.

And when I logged on to post this entry, what did I find? Totoro tagged me! Well, I guess when in Rome… (Zed’s Note: Right back at’cha Totoro, a riposte for your tag coming soon! LOL)

Cheers.