I've got to pull my act together, so this blog's got to go. I'll return to it at some point I suppose, which is why I'm not deleting it, but I just felt melodramatic enough to announce my departure.
Since I won't be posting here anymore (at least not for a long while), I expect you all to entertain me with frequent updates on your blogs.
Paalam na. Sayonara. Until we meet again.
6/03/2006
Exhaustion
I am so exhausted right now. I just want to crawl back in bed and sleep the whole day, but I'm resisting the urge to because 1) I've already slept for 10 hours, and I know I'll get sleepier if I sleep any more and 2) my job requires me to help someone in about an hour.
Let no one ever, ever tell me that I am a spoiled brat who can't work for crap. My hands are calloused now from all my manual labor - from pushing the red dolly to lifting and catching big brown boxes to washing my clothes, kuskus-piga style (Okay, the last one wasn't for my job. It was just something that I had to do.). And my mind is spinning from all the journal articles that I've gone through since three weeks ago. Business Week may be an awesome magazine, but if you read something like it for eight hours a day, five days a week, you'll probably start associating it with a novel by a dreamer who thinks he can write but can't. Whoa, that was exceptionally angsty.
Yeah, I apologize. I just feel annoyed right now, because I still have to clock in ten hours of research to fill in my weekly (self-imposed) quota and then there's that thing to write and this apartment to clean up. I miss my household help. I wish I could fly them here for just one day. They'll have this place fixed up in no time, guaranteed. But no. I have to fix my own stuff. And heaven knows how absolutely brilliant I am at doing that.
When I was packing up two nights ago, I was so tired and confused that I kept sitting down to take five minute breaks. My friend, who was providing moral support and nothing else, said, "Camille, stand up and get to work. You don't have time to sit around." I glared at him and said very precisely, "Shut. Up."
But you know, I guess that's what I should do. I should shut up and get to work, because whining here won't accomplish anything. But escapism is my clutch, and I think it's way too late to kick that habit now. After work yesterday, I headed off to the lake because I didn't want to go to my new apartment. I like the location and set-up of the new apartment, but I can't bear to be there right now, because the state of it reminds me of my state. Kalat, kalat, kalat. Anyway, I ended up having a one-hour-and-a-half conversation with Abu, a high school friend, who came here after high school graduation, a few months after Mardi, who I was speaking with last week, did.
We talked about a lot of random and private stuff, so I won't say anything of that here. But I just have to share this - I was like, "Abu, are you coming to Northwestern for med school this fall? Miyan and I are trying to convince Gi to take her internship in Chicago so we'll all be near each other." She said, "Nah, I'm not going to Northwestern. I've decided to go to Yale."
Ooh, barracuda! And that's the story of my kick-ass friend. And since I'm feeling really happy for and proud of her now, I'll end this post and attack my bathroom. I guess it's true that good emotions give you energy.
Let no one ever, ever tell me that I am a spoiled brat who can't work for crap. My hands are calloused now from all my manual labor - from pushing the red dolly to lifting and catching big brown boxes to washing my clothes, kuskus-piga style (Okay, the last one wasn't for my job. It was just something that I had to do.). And my mind is spinning from all the journal articles that I've gone through since three weeks ago. Business Week may be an awesome magazine, but if you read something like it for eight hours a day, five days a week, you'll probably start associating it with a novel by a dreamer who thinks he can write but can't. Whoa, that was exceptionally angsty.
Yeah, I apologize. I just feel annoyed right now, because I still have to clock in ten hours of research to fill in my weekly (self-imposed) quota and then there's that thing to write and this apartment to clean up. I miss my household help. I wish I could fly them here for just one day. They'll have this place fixed up in no time, guaranteed. But no. I have to fix my own stuff. And heaven knows how absolutely brilliant I am at doing that.
When I was packing up two nights ago, I was so tired and confused that I kept sitting down to take five minute breaks. My friend, who was providing moral support and nothing else, said, "Camille, stand up and get to work. You don't have time to sit around." I glared at him and said very precisely, "Shut. Up."
But you know, I guess that's what I should do. I should shut up and get to work, because whining here won't accomplish anything. But escapism is my clutch, and I think it's way too late to kick that habit now. After work yesterday, I headed off to the lake because I didn't want to go to my new apartment. I like the location and set-up of the new apartment, but I can't bear to be there right now, because the state of it reminds me of my state. Kalat, kalat, kalat. Anyway, I ended up having a one-hour-and-a-half conversation with Abu, a high school friend, who came here after high school graduation, a few months after Mardi, who I was speaking with last week, did.
We talked about a lot of random and private stuff, so I won't say anything of that here. But I just have to share this - I was like, "Abu, are you coming to Northwestern for med school this fall? Miyan and I are trying to convince Gi to take her internship in Chicago so we'll all be near each other." She said, "Nah, I'm not going to Northwestern. I've decided to go to Yale."
Ooh, barracuda! And that's the story of my kick-ass friend. And since I'm feeling really happy for and proud of her now, I'll end this post and attack my bathroom. I guess it's true that good emotions give you energy.
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