Shit, I was really angry on Saturday and now I’m really ashamed of myself for it. But at the same time, I know what I felt, the helplessness and all… the feeling of “I wanna do this thing” when it’s just not happening and this feeling always drives me crazy.
And now it’s a November Monday morning, it’s rainy, it’s cloudy, coldish, depressing as hell.
I am going back to work in 30 mins, after a week off. I kinda have this mild anxiety over having to catch up on a week’s worth of emails and just things that happened. I don’t feel like doing it and the feeling of “not feeling like” gives me this little tension inside, kind of like anxiety.
I’m also going back to the city tonight, after work. I’ve been cursing myself for coming home for the past week and half, but now I don’t wanna go back. I know monotony’s killing me, but I hate all kinds of changes.
My sister and brother-in-law were already coughing and had a runny nose when I came home over two weeks ago, but I already knew I was gonna catch it, and sure enough, I did. And my cough is still bad, and every time I cough, I think how I should’ve stayed in the city, because my sister and brother-in-law don’t go to the doctor when they catch a cold, and when I spend a couple of days under the same roof with them, I’m gonna catch it inevitably.
Every time I cough, I blame them and I am mad at them for it. Although I know you can’t draw direct connections like that, but I wanna blame somebody/something for the unpleasantness I’ve been going through.
I am also fucking mad at them every time I hear them cough. Because like “Fuck, if you had gone to the doctor right away when you got sick, you would’ve probably been on your way out of it by the time I came home and I wouldn’t be in this shit.” I’m not saying my anger is fully warranted, but I kind of feel like that.
I also know, however, that whenever something bad happens, my mind always has to come up with an answer. If this hadn’t happened, or if that person hadn’t done this, or if they were reasonable enough to do that…
I don’t wanna go back to the city.
I like the apartment I’m living in, but at the same I don’t, too. I hate my bed and I gotta buy a new one. But there’s an old one that has to be thrown out, it was left be the old tenants and it’s been folded up and I haven’t been using it for anything other than putting shit on it. But it’s gonna take a lot of work to carry it down from the apartment, load it up in a van, take it somewhere where they deal with stuff like that. Then buy a new one carry it upstairs, assemble it.
I don’t know where to buy a new one. One that’s good and not too expensive. Also, if I buy one and put it in the bedroom…
— — —
And that’s where I abruptly stopped yesterday and then never returned to writing the post before just now, 9:10 am, the following morning.