Saturday Evening Maddness

The following piece is being written in a frenzy of momentary (yes momentary, I am not always this mad) Saturday evening maddness and it is totally nonsensical (not the Alice in Wonderland or Abot Tabol variety but thrity year old, nothing to do now and frustrated with life variety). So for all those sensible and non-humourous souls kindly stay away from reading the following. Dont say I did not warn you.
Ok, before plunging into nonsense, let me crib about life a bit. Have you noticed the time this was posted? It is a Saturday evening and one of my room mate has gone on an oh-so-casual date with the momentary man of her life and his best friend (yes you are thinking right, date one, get the other all free, yahoo!). I did warn you that I wont make sense. Anyways to get back to cribbing, my other roomie is missing. And I am stuck in office. It is 7 p.m. Saturday evening and I am in office, writing this junk. When I should be Sex and the City style out on a hot date (after all I am a metrosexual singleton), drinking cocktail in an expensive place. But no for the frumpy sorts like me, cribbing is the option.
Ok to get back to the chore at hand, before this I spent my Saturday so far buying ticket to go home (yuppie), doing major amount of beautification (money spent) and eating (again money spent). Did all of this while bunking office the whole day. Was coming back happy and sated when realisation struck-- I am broke. Oh good Lord (and I am not taking his name in vain) it is the 5th day in the month named after Julius Ceasar (now from where did this come from? Uff I do get intellectual at sad moments) in the 2008 year of our Lord (or whatever it is they, whose profession I do not remember, say) and already I am out of money. Oh why do I spend the money that I earn after slogging for thirty long days (sometimes even thirty one, how I hate those months) all in five days flat? [Idea: Sophie Kinsella should write a book about spend thrifts like me.] I am yet to pay my rent, electricity bill, repay my roomie, do rest of my grocery and top up my phone. And already I am broke. With this realisation I looked heaven wards, hoping for devine intervention, total filmy style. Since none happen, I moved onto the lesser level and called for my angel. At least she could come. Now she is also absconding or not picking up my prayers. Is she absconding because this is Saturday and she is partying somewhere in angel-land? Then it is ok, but if she is absconding for all times from my life, then that is a bit worrying and not so easily pardonable.
Ok since I wrote so far let me tell you the entire angel funda of my life.
Seems like there is an overdose of angels in my life. But sadly they are all pseudo angels. Like I saw that movie where Rani Mukherji is an angel, then today went to Angels in My Kitchen in Defence Colony Market to have lunch, where the waiters roam around wearing shirts which say 'angels serving' on the back. Reread 'Daddy-Long-Legs' yet again and that book is also all about angels, long-legged gurdians and romance.
Hey if the whole wide world (another version of www) and then some have their angels, then where is my designated gurdian angel? I grew up knowing that there is an angel fixed by God to look specially after me. Since childhood I have always imagined a really nice, benevolent , cheerful and kind woman angel wearing pink and white organdy dress and eating candy floss, waving at me from high above, through perfect blue sky and fluffy white clouds. Now at thrity odd years my faith is going through a major thrashing and today it is at total stake, facing extinction. I suddenly realise that I am yet to meet my angel, let alone feel her benevolence. Or is it the other way round?
Now if God really did give me my angel, where the hell is she? Shouldnt she be saying hi and hello to me from time to time from the heavens? Ok, if she is one of those non chatty types, at least she should throw some chocolates at me when I am feeling down, especially at night. Ok, if she is a health freak ( could be a Capri, you never know) and knows I should have stopped having chocolates and ice creams like ten years ago and watched my weight, then the least she could do is to wink from above. But even that does not happen. Another excuse (uff I am making excuses for my angel like once upon a time I used to do for my boy friends, both are bad news I tell you) maybe angels do not wink! Or maybe mine doesnt know how to wink. Laugh if you may, I also do not know how to wink. Ok then she could send me a hug from up there. But alas! she seems to be rather unconcerned about me. It is almost like I do not exist for her. I am feeling ignored big time.
There could be two reasons for it. Either she thinks my life is perfect and it does not need angelic intervention. In which case I would like to point out to her that 'hello, my life is far from perfect'. I will send her a very personal crib list and then she will need at least two dozen chocolates to fight off her sadness.
Or, dread! dread! I have been assigned an angel who is really shitty and who sucks at her job big time. Oh no, it is even wrong to think this badly about my angel. But wait a minute, now that I am actually pondering on the subject seriously, I feel this could be true you know. If that is the case then I should be doing an assessment on her and sending God my feedback form. Usually I hate filling up feedback forms, but in this case since self interest is heavily involved I fill this most diligently.
But dear God in this age of fierce compition and stess on customer satisfaction please do listen to my prayer and feedback and give me a nice, caring and responsive angel who shows some interest in my case and gives me a pep hug when needed and an occasional chocolate, if she cannot right the major wrongs, or fill up the major blanks in my life. Phew............................Are you listening dear God? Waiting not so patiently...

P.S. On reading this piece does sound a bit like chicklit. Hmmm considering whether that is good or bad...