OR How to spoil your weekend mornings 101
After my last post (which got appreciated and shared for reasons much different than what I had intended for!), I had planned to be more regular with my blogging activity. However, a break there was, as it was a busy phase at work, but more so because I really had little to write about!
Some events this weekend, though, seem to be fodder enough to spend some time out of the really valuable 48 hours that form the weekend. Over the last few weeks, our utilization of these hours has 'improved' with our newfound regimen of an early morning jog, followed by a sumptuous breakfast, and then feeling happy over how many hours we still have in the day. Why we wake up early morning to do all this, when the rest of the week is spent ruing over the little sleep we get, is a point that beats us. The reader might want to take a shot at judging our psyche and help us out!
Saturday (Not a sequel to Miss Black's work of genius)
Cut to this weekend, and we decided to push things further. Not only did we get up early and complete our morning rituals, we also booked tickets for a 10am show for the newly released 'Prometheus'. We were obviously beyond ourselves with delight over having packed so much in such little time. The movie began well, atleast well enough to make us hope for a good two hours. Then it degraded into one of the regular sci-fi dump that the west is so good at, well, dumping on us. The script was convoluted, the effects were good but way short of stellar, the only female close to being described as 'good-looking' (Charlize Theron) was cast in the most un-glam and horrible of roles, and the "chic" 3D glasses we sported were barely useful as the most I saw of the third dimension was during the titles.
Needless to say, we got out at noon feeling a lot less happy about ourselves, with a lot of groans over some of the other movies we could have chosen to watch. However, I am sure we managed to sleep over the disappointment in the afternoon.
Sunday
The morning weather has hardly been better since I set foot in this city, and it's been over two months now). There was intermittent rainfall, and a semi-cool breeze. We had given the morning jog a miss, but still got up for a timely breakfast. Now, our usual breakfast haunt is this rather simple, pure-vegetarian place right next to where we live. When we reached there, some of us felt like having a toast and an omelette (preferable accompanied by tea, I added). So we firmly decided to explore and find a nice, little cafe to indulge in what we call the 'English' breakfast. Calls were made to JustDial, cab drivers were asked their opinion, but none of them yielded any concrete information on an omelette-serving place nearby open at 10am. So we hired a cab and set out. Brushing aside details of the journey, we finally settled for a plush hotel, where I am sure we, in worn out tees and shorts, looked like Joe Satriani in a hair saloon.
All we ordered were three omelettes, and were asked to separately order for six slices of toast. We were being indulgent and were definitely prepared to shell out an amount commensurate to the luxury. However, the sum was surely enough to freeze our brain cells. The six pieces of toast had cost us more than the sumptuous chicken dish and sizzler we had gorged on in a mall yesterday. And so we left the place feeling rather stupid (and hungry), and stopped over to pick up sambhar-vada and tea from our usual eating place.
"Well, on the lines of Edison and his failures with the light bulb, I now know one place I will definitely never go to for breakfast", I remarked. The quip wasn't very well received.
