I woke up around 7:30 in the morning yesterday and I was upset about it because I wanted to wake up at 6 am. Still, I found myself awake half an hour past seven, and I didn’t get out of bed until ten minutes later. By then I only had 15 minutes to make lunch for work, but my cooking took longer than I estimated, and was only able to step in the bath at 8:15. Not that I intended for that to be, I did spend a good deal crying before showering. It went like this. I’ve been meaning to get up early in the morning since the month started; I’m not an early riser, I’ve never been, and I’ve tried so many times in the past to get out of bed earlier, but I always oversleep through my alarms and/or do not have the discipline enough to heave myself up from bed the moment I open my eyes. Either way, 7:30 for me was already a good sign, and I tried so hard to make it a good morning, I tried so so hard. I cooked my quinoa and my tofu and vegetables, and was extra careful I didn’t burn anything. My dad was having breakfast that time, though, and I don’t know, I guess his morning remarks got to me. This was around 8:00 and I was almost done, when he said something along the lines of, “You always take too long when cooking your food. You just don’t want to share because you’re selfish.” He says things like that a lot on a daily basis just to mess with my head, and I don’t know what it was that triggered the dam, but I found myself so furious. I finished my cooking, placed my food in my tupperware, and marched to my room, my heart beating fast. When I got to my room, I reminded myself I had the choice to be angry or to let it go, and while I was telling myself that I shouldn’t be angry, I suddenly started crying angry tears. I’m trying. I’m trying so, so hard. I’m trying so hard to get up early in the morning when I’d rather sleep my life away and be effaced from this earth, I’m trying so hard to cook food when I’d rather starve myself, I’m trying so so hard, and all my dad did was make me feel worse about myself. I was so angry I bawled my eyes out and by the time I got to my bath, it was already 8:15 and I was running late, yet still I spent a few more minutes crying unstoppably in there. I am honestly trying my best to make this life livable for me, and most days I cannot even find a reason to get up and care for myself. I am trying so hard. To try to calm myself down, I found myself watering my plants after taking my bath. I saw that some of their stems are not upright; I don’t know why. I took a closer look and saw a few holes on the tiny leaves, and a small grey feather on the soil in one of the pots. I think the birds are eating my plants. I am frustrated over this because I want to see my plants grow, from seed to fruit, but I know birds have to eat as well. I’m honestly considering making maybe a tiny scarecrow to shoo them away. Now I am worrying that perhaps my plants are dying, perhaps thats why they are not upright. I’d say they are about 3-5 inches tall now, but some of their soft stems are flaccid. I don’t understand. Should I buy/make fertilizer? Install a tiny scarecrow? Water them more?! I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, and honestly, I found myself crying again because I couldn’t even care for my own plants. It’s pathetic. It was a hard morning for me, as you can see.
Today, however, was relatively better. I woke up at 6 am, but spent a good deal daydreaming. I hate my maladaptive dreaming. I still haven’t found panacea for it, and I don’t think I ever will. I’ve been doing it since I was a child and I can go on daydreaming for hours without stopping. I can’t seem to control it. Anyway, I got out of bed at 6:40 and was supposed to run at 7 am, but I saw my preserved dragonfly on my desk being devoured by ants. Somehow, the ants were able to puncture the plastic pouch and was swarming all over my dragonfly. I had to save it, I haven’t mounted it yet and it would be such a waste if it disintegrated. I swatted the ants away and saw the tail of the dragonfly almost falling apart, dangling from its hinges. I immediately made a relaxing jar for the dragonfly, using a tupperware and moist tissues. In a few days it will be soft and pliable enough to mount, and I will mount it this time for real. It is my fault, too. The dragonfly has been dead for three weeks and I should’ve mounted it on the styrofoam and framed it as soon as I found it, but I kept putting it off. I finished around 7:30 am by then, and forced myself to do cardio for 25 minutes on the treadmill. I also arrived at work ten minutes earlier than yesterday. I wanted to prove to myself that I can do so much better than yesterday, that my day and my state of mind can be better if I willed it. I have to keep my emotions in check, and everything else.
I also read George Orwell’s Shooting an Elephant last night before going to sleep. I forced myself to read, even if it was just a short essay, because I haven’t had the time to read novels lately and I am angry at myself for that. I know I should be making time for reading and writing, and I honestly have no excuse for this. I guess I just don’t have the heart to do it these days.
I also just finished touring about a hundred and fifty 4th graders here at the MET museum and my god, I feel so drained right now. I always get scared of kids in museums; a lively, rambunctious kid is the last thing you want right beside a classical painting that costs millions and millions in this day. Multiply that by 150. Nope. And the noise! Que horror! They really sounded like bees, a huge swarm of bees! My ears still feel a bit fuzzy and me a bit dizzy, but they’ve since left and I can finally have my headspace.
Did I mention it’s raining outside? I want to walk under the rain, but I am still trapped here in the museum for another hour and a half.