Tara’s Weeks

Tara is a thirty something years old woman who lives in a city at sea level. She works very hard on Mondays and Tuesdays to solve the problems of Fridays and Saturdays. During the week she relentlessly works out. The pictures of her workout sessions get many ‘like’s from those she meets on weekends. Her body is a temple on weekdays and it becomes an amusement park during weekends. She neurotically follows every event as if there is a party train out there that tends to leave her behind at every stop.

One a Saturday night, Tara texted me and asked for help. I showed up. Only, to find out that the problem was a boring party. I took the ordeal as a complement because that means I can still revive the boredom of a party girl. We hung out for a few hours and towards the end of the night she asked me if I had any advice for her. Right there, I noticed a moment of introspection caused by boredom, which is the very nature of first world problems.

I love neuroticism. It is that fundamental personality trait that never disappoints to entertain. The feelings of anxiety, envy, and phobia are the basis of Shakespearean tales. Neurotics founded the religions, arts, and formed enlightenments that have survived the test of time. The world will never know what it owes to neurotics or how much they had to suffer to give what they have.

On that Saturday, I strayed away from giving any advice. Not that I had any or I’m qualified for it. I actually really like Tara, but as a person who’s gone through that stage of life, I felt it’d be boring to take away the excitement of witnessing someone else’s boredom. The fervor of sharing a few words never left me though. If I had to really share a thought, I’d tell her that we were put on earth for reasons other than fucking. Then again, Tara belongs to that splendid family of neurotics which is the salt of the earth.

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