Excerpts From An Ordinary Day
How do you really feel?
My car stops at the traffic signal. It’s 45 degrees. My AC is blasting on 4 but I still feel hot. I quietly look out at the 5 children playing on the road. All of them shine big smiles at me. They don’t come to my window to ask for money or food. They just continue to play. Unbothered, unaffected. I look around at all the other cars that have stopped at the signal. We’re all heading somewhere. Not all of us are in great moods. We have a day better than the 5 of them on the street though. Most of us, will live to see that night and not die of heat or dehydration. Yet, our box of complaints is full with not an empty ounce of space.
I go home to a fully luxurious, air-conditioned home. As I ring the doorbell, my house help answers. She smiles and immediately runs to grab me a glass of water. I walk over to my room and take off my shoes and keep my bag. By then I have a glass of perfectly-cold water in my hand. I also have a very lovely temperature controlled room and more than anything I may need to survive the day, or the next 18250. Yet the first thing that comes out of my mouth are “Ah, it’s so hot”. Complaining is somehow ingrained in my system. I have so much and yet I’m grateful for very little of it.
My help on the other hand, runs to appreciate the fact that her parents received the money she wired and will be able to afford food for the next 15 days. Wow. I look at her smile. It’s so big. So genuine. So happy. I smile and go to my rest room. I look into the mirror and smile. I look at my smile. I must look really pretty, I think. But my smile, it’s not heartfelt. It’s so fake. So picture worthy. Sure, I’d take a selfie and post it on Instagram to get a few hundred likes. But what does that engagement even mean to me? The instant gratification is hardly gratifying. In fact, I wouldn’t even remember to thank most people for their silly fire emojis and useless comments on it.
I start examining my face. It’s been two years since the pandemic hit us. I was a young girl when all of it began. Just 25. Learning to live life as a “proper adult”. I’m 27 today. Older. The last two years have been great for my career. I’ve received a promotion and a few big fat bonus cheques. I’ve survived Covid-19 and had a happy work from home scenario. I’m also one of the fortunate few who had the opportunity of keeping their jobs. Yet, I feel so overwhelmed today. Who is this girl in the mirror, do I even recognise her? Is she even remotely close to whatever she intended to achieve at 27?
I decide. Today’s the day I’ll write in my gratitude journal and meditate and get in touch with my inner self.
I go out to the kitchen and re-heat some fancy pasta. Of course my parents aren’t home. They never are. That’s the price you pay for having socialites for parents. I eat a little bit and skim through Netflix for an appropriate show to watch. I give up in the show hunt, and just eat while skimming through what’s available. Why is looking for what to watch harder than ultimately watching it? It’s all stupid. There’s nothing worth watching here. I shut it and leave my dirty plate in the sink.
The dishwasher culture isn’t very prevalent in my country. We have people doing it for us. So I leave my dirty plate and a half empty glass of wine in the sink. Oh yeah, I did pour myself a glass of wine too. How else will I truly live in the spirit of Carrie Bradshaw?
I go to my room and decide to get back to my gratitude list. I have to write 10 things today. I HAVE TO.
I start:
- I'm so grateful for my body and it’s ability to function properly. Nope. Edit. Cross Cross Cross. I wasn’t able to do a pull-up at the gym this morning. What is this body if I don’t even have arm strength.
Ugh. Let me try again.
2. I’m so grateful for work and the opportunities that it brings me. Ew. No. That’s so material. I’m not a material girl. Maybe I am. I don’t know if this is something that goes in your journal. To be fair, I do need more money than however much I make. I work for it. I have a fancy degree too.
Ugh, No. Another failed attempt.
My sorry ass gives up. I’ll try in a couple of hours once I put my thoughts in perspective.
Maybe, I should meditate.
I pick up my phone for Headspace but I’m distracted by my dating app notifications. Whew! All this attention from all these men, over 6 pictures I uploaded? HAHA. Look who’s winning at life. I grin. Of course they’re my best six pictures. I don’t look like any of them without my hair and makeup done but who the hell cares.
I exit the app and scroll through my phone to have a conversation. Who should I call? Maybe my best friend. He seems to have an answer for everything. I FaceTime him. It rings twice and disconnects.
Beep.
“In a meeting. Call you later.” He texts.
I reply with a “sure, no problem.”
Wow I’m trying to be really easy going.
The truth of the matter is, there is a problem. A problem deep rooted inside of me. A problem that I’m trying to hide behind for a few days now. Days, haha. Months, maybe.
Does loneliness hit you like a storm sometimes? That feeling of being irrelevant. The thought that maybe one day you’ll disappear and no one would know. Maybe you’ve more than enough of everything you need, but do you have enough for your greed? What are you chasing? What are your big dreams? What are your ultimate goals?
As I drown into the plethora of questions, my head starts to hurt. I lie down. This is nice. This is comfortable. I shut my eyes and it almost feels like I don’t exist in that moment. It’s a nice feeling. It’s comforting. It’s also horrifying. I feel a tear glide through my right eye. I’m not crying. My eyes are just dry from wearing contact lenses all day. Screw you, myopia!
I slowly fall into a deep slumber.
Today wasn’t that great.
Tomorrow, we’ll try again. :)
