The fleas. Would it be so difficult to just call me back and let me know what's going on? It's been over a week. I'm commuting everyday, have to bolt in and jump on a chair when I get inside--on the rare occasion that I do, in fact, need to enter my own apartment, because all my possessions happen to be inside, and I can't exactly carry my life around with me, hence the need for a living space...--for paranoia that I'm being eaten and will have to suffer from bites that last way longer than a few days, am saddened by the food that's going to waste in my fridge because I can't stay in the apartment long enough to eat any of it, have 3 clean outfits to last me this week+, and will, in the aftermath, continue to be paranoid about a stray flea laying eggs and beginning this traumatic experience anew. I wonder if it makes matters worse that I talk about it and tell people, because people's responses generally just remind me how disgusting and terrible it is. And how I shouldn't have to deal with this. Maybe. Or maybe my threshold is just a week, and I'm breaking down.
And that's just the icing on the cake. The whole hemophelial nature of adulthood is getting to me. Getting my car titled and registered here: $139. Emissions: $50. Alignment, battery, etc.: $200. Registering for residential parking: $35. Auto insurance: $96/month. (Thanks MasterCard. Where's the part that's priceless?) And that's just expenditures from the past 2 days. Not including just living. Like gas and food. And since I don't get a paycheck until the end of this month, it's especially evident since the money flow has been all one way for the past 2+ months. Well, at least it's almost the end of the month.
But even though this paycheck will be a nice clot, the work that goes into it sure is a beast. I'm sure every doctoral student goes through this, but I just wonder if I'm really cut out for this. If I can really discipline my thoughts enough. Not only in terms of rigor for the academic setting, but also in not letting my emotions run wild--particularly the ones that result in/perpetuate my habit of always making assessments of others' opinions of me, trying to calibrate how well I'm doing, or not doing...comparing myself, always, always wondering if I measure up.
Musing: I'm feeling okay about everything...it's just when I tell someone else, I start to realize other things, like how lonely it can get. Like how sometimes I'd just like someone else to trust, to tell me that everything is going to be, and is, okay. Is it better just not to say it all out loud?
Well, before I get too sentimental, my temporary solution was to just get a haircut. It smells really good. (Yes, another expenditure...but it feels like just a drop in the bucket. I'll have to watch it.)
(So today I gave money to a homeless man. And he said, "That's it?" I'm not sure how I feel...it breaks my heart that people end up like this, in more than one way...)
Dear Noelle, everything will be ok. I know you know that, but I have to tell myself that almost every day, so I thought it would be helpful. :) Your hair is adorable, and whenever you get down on yourself, just think of President Uchtdorf's talk. "Forget me not"--and forget not to be patient with yourself. But you don't have to be patient with the fleas. Threaten a lawsuit, or something. :)
ReplyDeleteLove you lots. And just think--at least the fleas aren't scorpions!! :)