The Monica in me wishes to be Joey

Friends was one of the first shows I got hooked on to after I moved into hostel. Trust me, for almost 20 years of my life I had not ever watched an English sitcom or even knew that word existed.

On a nice cozy Sunday morning in December (those who have lived in Bengaluru would know what I mean) my roomie and I were flipping channels of TV when she saw a re-run of Friends on Star World. I told her I had not even watched this "serial." She gave me a look — she was upset that I called a sitcom a "serial" — and was amazed I had never seen it.

The episode playing was "The one where no one is ready" and I instantly found myself smiling and could not stop laughing when Joey came in wearing all of Chandler's clothes. What fun!

Since then, I have watched it multiple times and I know the dialogues in and out. Every time I have taken the "Which Friends character are you?" quiz, because of my craze for cleaning, love for cooking, organizing and structuring things — I have always turned out to be Monica.

I am that girl who would love to clean somebody's mess up, have a designated space for everything in the house, and if it moves by a millimetre I would know.

But here is the thing — the Monica in me desperately wishes to be Joey.

Joey, who lives entirely in the present moment. Who eats with abandon. Who loves without overthinking. Who says what he means and means what he says. Who is never too proud to admit he doesn't know something. Who makes friends with everyone he meets.

Monica plans. Joey lives. And somewhere in between those two extremes, I am trying to find my sweet spot.

How you doin'?