"Matlab it's very normal for me"

I needed to pause. I'm constantly on one thing after the other or sleeping. So many acitivities and so many needs of everybody else come into the picture that its hard for me to reassess where I am at.

Like right now, I know I have to write the letter of engagement for my CFP class (due Wednesday), apply to German univeristies (have to update my CV again before that, good Lord) and improve upon the bookmarks I made yesterday. My unread emails are at an embarrassingly high count and yet I don't want to "delete all". It's very chaotic at home too. I feel like the mother of 3 kids - two hard of hearing and one teenager. The teenager watches TV and needs to be told to do other things and the other two are constantly pushing agendas. It's not hard work because they're picking up a lot of slack but it's sometimes mentally irritating. I just think of mom then and realize I'm just going to leave her with this again. It's a huge mental load. Just how it is sometimes and I love them to death but my God. 

Coupled with that are the usual random injuries - new ones include wrist pain and a minor blister from cooking Maggi. I feel like I'm living in suspended time and really getting nowhere. That, I recognize as unhelpful and so stopped for a bit. I still can't really relax or effectively prioritize so the next best thing is to write.

A called me yesterday and cool new things are happening with her. That's great. She's also been working towards that for a while now. I realized another thing though. In my head, I was all about maintaining distance etc etc like it was A Thing and how it's a new and different sensation to not know what is up with the other. After speaking.. I understood how hung-up I had been. I found that I was at the best outcome and yet desired more? Was it vengeance? Or regret? For her, there was no need to clarify or discuss. Like she said in a word, 'Life'. So that is settled then. To newer equations minus the passive anger and sadness (for real this time). 

All of which made me think about my comfort zone. I had flashes of realization (before I drowned them in work) about how scary it is to feel truly comfortable around a small bunch of people who you need to leave. It's a quiet desperation to keep working at my own life. It's a gentle reminder to try without keeping a high benchmark. I am making new friends and socializing I guess, enjoying the company of people. Yet there is something claustrophobic and hyperventilating-ish about getting to the point of feeling at home with somebody, something exhausting. I think about this more rationally when I am calm but it's violent if it creeps up on me. So, that. 

Speaking of living my own life: The Last Date. So my summer romance (I should stop calling it that at some point) is leaving the city. Yesterday, I asked myself would it have been any different had we not met through Bumble. There is no answer actually except that I wouldn't have called it summer romance repeatedly. Haha. No though, I'll tell you what it is. For the nth time, I am again going to the root of the matter. The root of the matter also keeps changing because my mood keeps changing. I have had the luxury of being who I want to be (without any background information, without getting my family and friends as a package) very rarely. There were conversations about me on my own merit. If there was any validation, it was for me. Awkwardness, also for me. Disappointment also and happiness too. Everything for me. For someone who doesn't get that often/doesn't let themselves get that too often, it's a good experience. Nothing is shaded by prejudices.

For a miniscule bit in between, all of this was insulation. Irritation and anger from external things got buffered due to this escapism. Probably not healthy but wow, imagine not solving shit and being buzzed all on your own. I didn't want to care and this was a great opportunity not to. But this was the tiniest part. I get that this is a double-edged sword and sadness and irritation from inside the buffer can also leak out into everything but amazed at the fact that everybody gets to live in tiny bubbles on the regular.

I came up with the term attention-shaped hole. I don't know how to use it without sounding dirty or needy. It's weird if its constantly filled up though. That's not something I'd like. But once in a while okay fine give me things that don't make sense but can enjoy and pretend are nice.

What lives rent-free in my mind the most, THE MOST these days is a conversation I had with A (another one). She was talking about her life and over the course of things mentioned people doing things for her all the time (like travelling to see her or gifting her things etc). Like the title says 'it's very normal for me'. Her intention in saying this was to be super casual and conversational about this and that she was not showing-off. I don't even remember how this conversation started: was I happy about something? I don't think so. Maybe about how nobody is impressive insipite of doing this for her?  Or that it doesn't matter if anybody does things or not, in the end everybody is boring. I don't remember. I just remember the reiteration that it was so, so normal and not a big deal at ALL. Now that I'm writing, I think this stayed with me then because it did feel like showing-off. Cavalier, like. Somewhere down the line though, it started seeming like it was actually a matter of pity. How pitiable and strange to be surrounded by so much kindness and affection that you don't notice it anymore. I don't know if that's true though (maybe she can be grateful while being used to things), just what I took away from it. It was the whole context though for me. Doesn't matter. It's not my life.

On a slightly unrelated note, I don't seem to handle criticism and contempt all too well. I'm not even working on that. Can't take the pressure, won't take the pressure. Yet these are the times I feel better off alone, in my room, doing my thing. At least nothing can touch me there. 

Wow, this has become slightly intensive. Good chat we had over coffee, very nice. Now back to afternoon break hour activity.

Now that I am overthinking though, and had gone to the bookmarks, I'm going to edit this for my thoughts on why I got to the bookmarks. I'm still in two minds about giving them after having made them. In my superdramatic brain, I feel like I want to leave a tiny memory because I like hints of nostalgia myself. It's hard to balance because I want nothing too much that asserts 'I WAS HERE' or too emotional coyly romanticizing or that screams too much effort. I think I'd take even more effort to ensure that it looks like no effort. I'd attribute this to my hoarding tendency. Evidence: half a cupboard of nostaglia. I've never wanted to forget things. It's also a kindness thing? Doing things for people, just by the way?

 

I'm thinking and thinking because there is no explanation. You know how young kids say itna bhaav kyu dena? Same feeling, #relate. There is no 'deserve' and there is no 'reward'. There is no 'like'. There is nothing, inside it's empty. Yet I do what I do.

To wishing on lashes and 11:11s and enjoying the happiness in that :)