Having one's heart broken opens up a lot of free time that would otherwise go in planning babies and EMIs.
I wish I could say that I devoted this time to working for world peace, learning to use nunchucks, writing a one-act play about the joys of menstruation or composing a symphony for the upcoming Commonwealth Games. But no.
What I did (besides bawling) was watch crap films like Valentine's Day & My Name Is Khan and then review them on Twitter (I couldn't even muster up all 140 characters). I even cried a little in both films (when Eric Dane turns gay and when stereotypical black kid starts singing gospel, respectively).
Next, I hung out with a cousin and interfered in his relationship. I'm hoping he'll still talk to me.
I have also been watching the TV series Weeds obsessively. Last evening, I took the show's title a bit too seriously and let the lines between reality and Hollywood fiction blur. It was interesting. I attempted to climb into the screen and introduce myself to Conrad (no one can say 'What the FAACK' like him. No one).
Finally, I took an hour long walk from Vasant Vihar to my home. Throughout, I had long, imaginary conversations with the Classy Rejector...mostly suggesting how he could sodomize various members of his family. The traffic drowned out my rants and by the time I was home, the endorphins and cathartic yelling had done their job.
So, I had me a nice Jamoca Almond Fudge ice cream. Cone, not cup.