I am so fucking angry today and I don’t know why. I think my average 4 hours of a sleep a night due to my allergies/how loud my floormate is/how much worrying I have been doing is finally catching up to me.
also america. fuck you.
22. Philly born London transplant in pursuit of a useless degree and infinite knowledge.
- I now live in Philadelphia again, in a large dark house with 5 boys, 3 of which I am sharing a bathroom with.
- school starts tomorrow and I haven’t been entrenched in the American education system for approximately 6 months, and I am nervous
- I have a friendship door with the sweetest and most accomodating boy on the planet who gave me free reign of his french press and coffee grinder
- I have to go grocery shopping tomorrow; I can spend hours in the grocery store.
- my house has a bath tub that I can smoke and drink wine in
- I had a mental break down at work and tried to get some hours off but I think I will just suck it up
- against my moral-er judgement and upon the sound advice of mother and the sleepy advice of boy, I decided to stop tutoring after class; I have a paying internship and a job now and I have to keep up with my 5 courses, as well as have a few hours to myself during the week. I feel bad about ‘quiting’ anything, and I feel bad about surrendering my one charitable activity, but I guess something you have to look after yourself too.
- my room is FREEZING, and already messy
- I picked out my first day of school outfit already because I am in third grade
- I cried twice today.
- I miss you.
- My bike is still in the suburbs, I hope mom drops it off soon because I miss it
- I have my heart set on going back to England for spring break, in 44 days. If my calculations are correct, I should have made about $800 by then, which would render me broke as hell, but will successfully pay for my ticket. I will need to ask off of work for this and as I am only 1 week into both jobs, that makes me nervous.
- It is only 10:30 but I am probably going to pass out soon
- no one cares.
This is probably unnecessary and also I think if I post a lot of things afterwards he’ll never see it- which is probably good- but I do have the best boyfriend ever who let me have a serious academia-induced anxiety attack and only walked away from me to bring me a pack of cigarettes and no one has ever wanted to put up with me like that. And I’m really lucky. And I’m telling the WHOLE internet.
I’m really scared to go away and anxious and worried that I won’t do everything I want to do and afraid that I will make a mistake and waste a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Maybe I should have picked a different school since this one was on a whim, or maybe a different country, not that I even WANT to go anywhere else.
Also I know things are just what you make them and I will go and see and do and be part of everything as much as I can and these are unfounded things.
Everyone just wants me to go and explore and adventure, my family especially, and they seem to forget that I am taking 3 classes and that school is more important to me than running all over the UK, as much as I would like to do that. I feel a bit like I am going to disappoint everyone who is helping to fund this adventure if I don’t breath in everything. It makes me uneasy.
also, I will miss my cat.
I’M HAVING AN ANXIETY ATTACK AGAIN BECAUSE I JUST FOUND OUT I AM SUPPOSED TO MOVE INTO MY BRITISH DORM ON THE DAY THAT I LEAVE AMERICA AND I DON’T ARRIVE UNTIL THE NEXT DAY AND I AM GOING TO MISS IMPORTANT INFORMATION AND I AM GOING TO CRY AND WHAT IF THEY DON’T LET ME EVEN MOVE IN OR I AM THE ONLY ONE MOVING IN AND MAKE MYSELF LOOK LIKE A FOOL/STUPID AMERICAN/SOMEONE NO ONE WANTS TO EVEN BE FRIENDS WITH THIS IS THE WORST THING UGH
On monday night, hopefully, I will be all moved out of my norf philly house, which will have been scrubbed spotless by myself and Mr. Lacon, and summer school will be over and I will be in the suburbs with the air conditioning and my cat and you know what I am going to do?
I AM GOING TO TAKE A FUCKING BATH
I often wonder, when I see mothers with their children—mothers who are dragging their feet and lazily eyeing the other families, mothers with unbrushed hair and low, grumbling voices, mothers with pristinely dressed little girls and stoic older sons, were these mothers, before they were mothers, when they were still just women, or girls even, were they tired like this? Are these tired people, or is there something about giving so much of yourself to another little someone that reduces a human to a fragment of themselves? And still so, worse further, will they be tired forever? Is that the fate of a family, to always just be so very tired? In different ways, in all of the ways that loving and doing and giving and wanting and never being just enough and always being everything makes one tired?