In French they say, “Vivez un peu” and though you probably have no idea what that means just trying to pronounce it creates a kind of rush. Have to admit that just about anything in French sounds interesting.
But it as my grandmother would say, “You’re young so live a little”. A typical day can be so mundane. You wake up and do the same stuff as if programmed, bouncing from kitchen to bathroom to living room and not once do you manage to steal a moment to find out who is ahead in the US elections from Matt Lauer (Today Show) or whether Wall Street is really going to bounce back this time.
Then comes the sound of that boisterous horn outside and you realize that it is approaching that hour when you should be out the door and off to work — the door slams shut behind you. It’s the story of your life. You are still breathing. But are you living at all?
Yes! There are a few thrilling moments at work when I am so keyed up, you can see it on my face and smell the passion burning inside me from a considerable distance away. Only thing burning right now is my appetite for life; pretty soon I will be betrothed and married, then I will look for happiness like it were some kind of lost treasure buried far away on a deserted island.
Forget it, forget my mornings, and my days and I say live a little. I’ll live just for one day even if it means there will be consequences (minor) and maybe, just maybe, a little regret. What’s the fun in throwing caution to the wind if there is not going to be that moment when I look back and ask, “Did I really do that?”
Maybe I will hop aboard that excursion that is going to Buxton in another few weeks now that that guy is gone. But was there anything to worry about in the first place? Rumour has it that those excursions are unforgettable and I can’t think of anything more memorable than partying in a village I had feared just about a month ago.
Speaking of fear, something tells me that my breath will smell of alcohol in the not-too-distant future because that cold beer that had I been dreaming of (but never had the guts to drink) will finally disappear from the refrigerator. I hear there is nothing like a cold one at the break of dawn.
As for the ATM card that I deliberately misplaced so that I don’t go broke before monthly income day again, I am fishing it out and hitting the mall. There is nothing like retail therapy and I can hear that pair of jeans on the rack at Strawberry Fashions calling my name. I am going to miss that ten grand a few days after it is gone, but the image of me in those jeans is all the justification I am going to need. Come to think of it, Guyana Fashion Weekend is around the corner.
And as I sit here deciding what more to do and ticking things off my ‘must do’ list, I remember that Astor Cinema is screening two movies I am interested in seeing. Incredibly, it is still around though not much of a cinema but the wide screen is still there and a few of the seats are actually bearable so I will catch the afternoon show at 4.30 pm.
But wait a minute; I don’t leave work until way after and it just isn’t safe to go the cinema after certain hours anymore — too many petty and not-so petty thieves knocking around. Know what, I will catch the afternoon show regardless and for that day, whenever it is, I am going to forget my mundane life.
(thescene@stabroeknews.com)
