When your child’s theatrics take over your work!
Studying for exams without physically attending classes is not for the faint-hearted, as I have come to learn. Especially if you are a serial procrastinator like yours truly. Last minute is the name of the game. So, you find yourself rushing through deadlines with no time to breathe.
The only exciting bit is if by some stroke of luck, you not only meet your target one second before the deadline, but you also deliver a masterpiece. This is what keeps me piling up stuff until the point I can’t postpone anymore, because one, luck seems to be always on my side and two, it feels great knowing that it took me say a day to work on something which ended up being more spectacular than a similar project whose begetter spent a fortnight to prepare.
However, that crunch time is always so cognitively exhausting and extremely frustrating, worse than watching a movie on Kodi when your internet speed is menopausal! It is also unsettling, evoking a similar feeling to when you are home alone and in the bathroom taking a shower, your face is covered in soap and then you hear some noise in the background that reminds you of the sound your documents make when you are rummaging through the drawer in your bedside table. Or you start imagining the sound of footfalls advancing towards your bathroom, yet you were not expecting anyone. Am I the only one who goes through this?
Last night I was busy trying to bang this copy but Xena’s singing and chatter would not let me. 300 words in, she bustles into my room. She is singing this song whose every verse ends with “Children, of the Lord” but she says “chindren” which normally is funny because no matter how many times I try to get her to pronounce the L in children, she finds it necessary to sneak in letter N in its place! But given how much I am struggling with deadlines and I want to get this copy out of my way, her singing is more annoying than funny. Especially because it’s also deafening and if you know me well enough, you definitely know how my productivity and sound are inversely related.
Obviously, I can’t ask her to stop singing because that might just kill her dreams of being in a classical opera. I can only ask her to take it down, but that won’t help my current situation as I need complete silence. So, I think on my feet and this is how the conversation goes. And by the way, I know over here we are all about creative non-fiction but I promise you not a single word of the convo below is made up.
“Xena please get Rapunzel (the book) and read. You know I need quiet to write.”
“No mama, you need noise.”
“I am serious Xena, you are distracting me.” I tell her as I pretend to type away, hoping that she will feel ignored and either grab her book and read it besides me, or head back downstairs to her playmates (read sister and daddy).
She stares at me for a split second and with a straight face tells me that I am being unfair.
“How am I being unfair Xena? I spend the whole day with you doing stuff that you love and now you can’t just allow me two hours to write??”
Sending her on a guilt trip will certainly work. But she has a rejoinder, one that I don’t see coming. Much like all her rejoinders anyway.
“But if I don’t talk I will die!” She retorts, her face consumed with excessive woefulness.
That’s the point my copy ceases to matter! Ctrl-Alt-Delete, flip down my laptop, stash it in my bedside drawer and I ask her to indulge me in her thoughts. Why would she imagine death befalling her because of being tight-lipped?
Seeing that my laptop is away, she totally ignores my question, jumps onto my bed and goes back to her singing, this time even louder and packed with actions. I resign myself to fate, lie back and watch her. The only thing I am missing is popcorn.