I’m currently sitting in the hallway of a hotel because my friend doesn’t like the light from my computer (which I turned away from her). And it’s not that I can’t or don’t understand her concern, but she and her boyfriend had played video games on their individual Switches for an hour before deciding they were going to bed, so apparently everyone should be going to bed, and now light is annoying.
It’s not that I’m complaining (I am); it’s just that I find it really annoying, but also I feel anxious about it. I try to be as accommodating as possible to other people. You are freezing cold but I’m so hot I feel like I’m melting? That’s okay, turn off the AC. You want to get up at 6 am, but I’m exhausted and want sleep? That’s okay, I’ll get up. You want to skip breakfast because you ate a big dinner? That’s fine, I’ll ignore my body when it enters starvation mode.
Yes, I am being sarcastic, obviously. I hate it. I really do all those things. I sacrifice myself to be accommodating to other people. But I don’t do it very willingly. I make snide remarks. I remind them that I did it. I mention how hot, tired, hungry I am on repeat until you want to kill me. But I still insist on doing the accommodating thing.
So tonight when my friend got annoyed at the light from my computer, I stepped out into the hallway to write there, and promptly locked myself out. But if light keeps her awake, knocking on the door will certainly do so. Thus, my conundrum. Thus, the opportunity to think about how I will be seeing my mother in less than 48 hours. I was originally ignoring this fact. But when it’s just you and the hallway lights of the hotel and some questionable carpet you’re currently sitting on, your thoughts drift to your mother. Freud would be so proud (or just vindicated). I will be sitting at her kitchen table, being asked why I didn’t wash my hair or why my clothes look like that or why I gained weight or how come I’m not dating that cute neighbor boy from when I was 7 and he used to throw things at me. 44 hours and counting…
Day 13 – Stressed, anxious, and locked out, alone, in a hallway.
3 thoughts on “June 23, 2018”
Is it a fiction or for real…?
For real. Definitely, sadly, for real.
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thats freakin sad