Day 2032
I particularly enjoy that idea, that my life feels like a test I didn’t study for. And I hated to not be ready. I always studied for tests, and if I could not memorise something, I would always make a cheat note. Yes, I did cheat, but that was mainly due to poor memory rather than lack of studying. The only problem I encountered at the university is having not enough time to study everything I wanted. Being ready for what was given as a required amount - that was just the basics, it went without saying that I would study for it. For me to be feeling ready, I needed at least one point from extracurricular readings. Getting a test for which I haven’t studied for could be compared to the death of the idea of me as a student.
Indeed, I feel like I am not ready for life. I don’t have the tools to live it. I don’t know the knowledge of how it works. So what do I expect. For me to feel chill? For me to be confident? For me to be okay with it? Of course I am in a state of a constant low-key panic, anxiety, they call it. Just like crossing the road right from around the corner and hearing the approaching car, but not seeing it, or being able to tell the speed it’s coming with towards you, and yet under the pressure to cross the road - that is my everyday struggle.
My hamster mama is being a mama, hiding the kids from the dangers of the world. I hope she’s got some of that mother instinct, and not the hamster one. Still haven’t seen the babies. I hope to see at least some of those who survive the mother’s rage. The father is being jealous, he produces so much territorial stink my husband can’t stand being in one room with him. Might be a male pheromonal thing, because I don’t smell it that much.
Discover Weekly has been extremely satisfying this week on Spotify. Cannot deny the joy and inspiration a good compilation of music brings me. Thank you, bot Spotify. Touch me
I am being extremely jealous of everything my husband gets, especially attention related. I feel how much attention he gets from others, and I am particularly hurt by the attention he puts elsewhere from me. I never stopped being an only child, although I got two siblings by the time I turned 13.
Can’t stop spending money on things I don’t particularly need. I must have not been getting enough of things when growing up. It’s never enough. Everything should come with a spare. I need a stash to feel safe: stash of hygienic products, stash of medicine, stash of money, stash of things I need to do in case there is too much freedom in a time frame of one day. My husband wonders how much money I should have to feel safe and comfortable, and I reply back that there is no such number. I am not a gold digger, I survive on very little, when necessary, not a big deal, but to feel safe and comfortable, I imagine, comes with a price I cannot put in a number of digits. It feels like something unbuyable. Unreachable.
Was checking for lice yesterday, Understand, that we are quarantined here, leaving our apartment to shop for food, never really meeting people. I was checking for life above the sink standing on a chair, because my hair got quite long, and realised how far my anxiety pushed me only when my husband - the rational one - made it clear that there is absolutely no way I could have gotten the lice. I don’t know. I might just have an itch all over, because I wanna see baby hamsters. Or because I recently got a cold sore on my lip, which is the first sign of immune deficiency. Or my damned sore throat. Again. I know my ASLO level is higher than normal, but I just don’t want my tonsils to be removed. What if my superpowers reside in my tonsils, but I just have not disclosed yet. On the other hand, what if my superpowers are being blocked by those regularly aching tonsils?.. Hm…
It’s snowing here for the first time. I don’t like it. I don’t appreciate the snow. I don’t like the cold. I don’t need this. It annoys me.
My kitty must be cold out there. I made her a house to shelter her through the night. A post box with some polyester material pieces from my clothing experiments. I hope she uses it. It’s made with love under time pressure and demand. She is a lovely kitty, not my type, but I love her nevertheless.
A thought of volunteering at the shelter upon coming back to Vilnius struck me today. Maybe I just need some time with animals in need. Animals are terrifyingly beautiful, like life itself.