If it’s ok to blame it on impulse .it’s ok to murder your boss

I sit at my desk sifting idly through scripts, earphones firmly in place, tuned out from the rest of the world. It was a slow afternoon, and my new enemy at work was the clock at the mantel , ticking away at its own sweet time. Barely three hours of sleep the night (or was it day break?) beforehand had left me cranky, and longing for some good old KFC and the downy comfort of my mattress. Just as I’d drifted off lazily into my little world of  sweet nothings, a snippet of conversation from my boss sitting beside me , made me sit up. She was discussing this prospective extra marital affair she was having with her husband’s friend and asking her junior colleagues for relationship advice. What must have been a break from boredom from his rusty job or the increment that awaited him the next month made the guy sit up and feign interest. He kept nodding at the right intervals, dropping the ‘right’ compliments, ooh-ing and aah-ing a the expected pauses and thoroughly acting like the excited girl , my boss had cloned him to be

I turned off my music and tried to tune into their little chat. Anyway , the guy’s excitement gave way to concern as my boss began to unravel un-parliamentary secrets out in the open, I looked around feeling guilty of having eavesdropped only to see people on the other aisle, earplugs firmly on too  looking just as flabbergasted , exchanging shifty grins. Well, I had company down the guilt trip.

Back to my boss’s story. She kept telling her (now avid) listeners details of her parallel love life , from the texts she exchanged to the prospective trip Mr. X ( as I fondly nickname him) intended to make the coming week. My boss’s dilemma was on whether to meet him and let the inevitable happen or play with her food and let it go, rather than going for the catch. Her male ‘mentors’ offered her lukewarm advise on moral values , while one tried his arm at philosophy and tried to tell her how unhealthy it was. My boss, I realized was only half listening to their advice.. she hadn’t really wanted relationship advice. She was a high spirited woman , who wished to do things her way and blame the consequences on impulse.! I could already see her getting dolled up to meet Mr.X the next week and no amount of coaxing or the ‘playing with fire’ warnings could set her astray. Poor Mr Y, bobbing along in a ship a 5000 miles away would have no clue. ( Mr.Y is her husband , a sailor)

So miss rich bitch was going to have her way after all. But reading between the lines, she’s not the only one branded under this label. There are  a lot of us who do things , we know are wrong , but we do it for the high that life gives us , and when the aftershock ( or the ‘next morning’ as the Americans call is) comes around , there’s good old impulse to blame it on! And we’re not only talking, relationships behind blinds or a shady hobby here; we’re slitting it down to the smallest blurbs of life – a heated argument and an ‘impulsive’ break up threat  that kills  a long distance relationship, a teary fit that cost a new wardrobe from Vero Moda , an  ego trip that takes forever . yes we blame the entire platter on impulse, because if it’s ok to be impulsive , you’re forgiven somewhere down the lane. I consider myself impulsive too. A temper tantrum with a friend often costs me a new pair of shoes or a sulky shopping spree, and once the defensive ‘Don’t-care-a-damn-about-anyone’ phase wears off, I’m stuck wondering where my impulse has taken a walk to, and a year back I used to pride myself on getting bored of things too fast. Not.Funny.Anymore

The point is , it’s cool to be impulsive about the good things! Hell, that’s where the term impulse got its brand image from,. Some of the biggest ideas that were born  into this planet were a stroke of impulse, but that however does not carry over to playing hooky with your conscience.

I silently send my boss’s impulse a silent plea – it’s ok if life’s a little dull  and predictable now and then. It takes only one impulsive moment to put it back on fast gear and you can tear down the road, feeling the high while it lasts , but what it can cost later could be a shattered relationship , a sense of security( which we called monotony)  and a severed conscience.

So why am I writing this, playing hooky from work sitting right under my boss’s nose? 

Well, call it impulse!