i have waited with a glacier’s patience

my days are a mindless routine. i wake up waay to early, check for messages. fall back asleep. wake up waay too late. check for messages. go downstairs. take my meds. walk lucy. i fill the rest of the time with empty, boring chores and try to read and write and be some sort of productive. i watch snippets of episodes online, getting bored or impatient partway through. i walk lucy multiple times. i do laundry. i clean. i vacuum. i try to fill the hours. is this it? i try to finish up everything before 4, when i feed lucy. then i wait for the parents to get home. if there is a baseball game on i hang around a while to make fun of the players, look at their stats online, make brent guess how tall each of them is, what city they were born in. then i make fun of them more. i’m a simple soul, i like to make fun of people.

i go upstairs after bringing lucy outside one last time for the night. she is having a hard time getting up the stairs lately (the vet thinks this is because of her bad sight) and we are having to mix her food with special freeze-dried mixer stuff because she won’t finish her food otherwise. i coax her up the stairs, feeling low the whole while, at how cruel time is. she settles down in her bed eventually. i send off some messages. i eventually dwindle off to sleep.

my days are being eaten up by nothingness. i’m bored, existentially. i’m trying to be dramatic here. it’s not that bad. i’m just in a rut. i need to find something to complete me, asap. ok that’s dramatic as well.

i am having a bit of a hard time dealing with lucy getting older. she is almost 16. she may already be 16 and i may be in denial. for a lab, this is an especially impressive age. she is doing well for that age too. the worst thing is her blood sugar and her sight. she has a really hard time getting up into the car so it breaks my heart a little bit every time we bring her to the vet.

we’re going off to new york in a couple of weeks. i will worry about her while we are there. we’re having her board at a dog daycare place. it’s really nice and everything, but they don’t know her. i worry about them feeding her too much or not enough or not walking her, or her being lonely or scared. everything is painful about her in my mind right now. bittersweet.

bittersweet is a great word. it can be used to describe so much in life.

pretend there’s no tomorrow, i wish there was no tomorrow

woke up around 2:30am. did my usual, went downstairs to walk about the dark house, looking out windows. saw an opossum eating cat food on our doorstep, lol.

then i laid down on the couch and looked at pictures of huge savannah cats and cute little corgis on my phone.

then read a thread about the creepiest things people had experienced while in the outdoors/camping/whatever.

then i fed lucy around 4:30, and took her for a walk with mom.

then brushed my teeth, and got ready to go for the day.

then went to work around 6:30.

now i’m home and watching cartoons and working on homework half-assed. there’s a million things on my mind but i’m just trying to be chill right now for once.

 

sometimes i wonder if you’re mythologizing me like I do you

i’m not prepared for anything right now. i’m so scattered, and became so without realizing it. freaking western civ. i had a test today that i missed, and tho i did well on my stupid test in my other class, i don’t even care, because i’m too worried my professor won’t let me make up this test, and i wouldn’t blame him. i messed up. and even if i did take it, again: i’m not prepared. i just wanna say screw it and give up. giving up is what i’m good at. throwing in the towel. retreat has always been a great strategy to me. not.

plus my dad called me, and as i listened to the phone ring, i thought of all the reasons i don’t wanna talk to him. how i’m not going to be at my grandma’s birthday party, how i am still taking classes and working my stupid job at the same level and at the same timely basis. i don’t know what he wants from me. what he expects other than this. what does anyone expect. lol. it’s like he doesn’t even know me, doesn’t know not to expect anything grand or extraordinary anymore. i’ve peaked.

pretty sure i was as great or notorious as i will ever be in the 4th grade. it’s like i’m some sort of freaking implosion-type device, destroying everything i was meant to, and more. now i’m just history. lmao, this journal is my death-count, the statistics of my great destructive powers. only maybe i was set off somewhere in the middle of nowhere, and just observed. isn’t that all of us, tho? do you ever get that feeling, that you’re just an experiment, just a stepping stone to an actual venture that you won’t even live to see? lol, no?

my grandpa was in the navy. he was in the bikini atoll during the nuclear testing in the late 40’s or around that time. he died of cancer, which the veterans hospital covered as like totally service-related. they told them they couldn’t drink the water, but they could bathe in it. talk about military intelligence, lmao. KIDDING ❤

it’s funny how i feel so wrapped up in responsibilities that i don’t even really feel responsible for anymore. i’m trapped in a lie of a life, but i’ve committed to it, so here i am.

read the yellow wallpaper again for class. i read it first years ago, and even back then it rang like a clear loud bell, something i could grasp, a substantial thing. i can relate to that lady in the story, smothered by reality and the hopes and expectations of myself and others. i mean, i don’t want to dramatically declare myself to be going insane in a similar fashion to the narrator in that story, but i just know i’ve been down that road of getting lost in the pattern of things.

i remember when we lived in the countryside, and i would just sit for freaking hours by myself, getting lost in minute details of my own stupid existence. i was going crazy, and nobody seemed to notice, or care, or want to notice or care. i just felt so alone, even more alone than i feel now. so that’s a positive. i’ve shown growth, ha. though i still feel rather trapped in this too small of space, my mind. i’ve always loved the saying about things being more than the sum of their parts, as i feel that is what i am, what everyone is, though some people don’t seem to notice. i feel, too, as if i’m missing parts. important, incredibly crucial parts of me are missing. on the 22nd of september, 2014, i wrote: ‘its like i’m being covertly dismantled, bit by bit.’ i still feel like that.

fine, i’ll call my dad back, then go to bed.