Off-Clock Musings

On the Current Chapter

My bedsheets are dark gray. I have a white and gray duvet, and Oreo is sleeping at the end of my bed.

It's slightly chilly in my bedroom, and I've let my hair loose to provide me with warmth.

1-800-273-8255 is playing as I scratch my head. I need to wash my hair. My throat is itchy, and I'm thirsty.

I recently had a surgery. Recovery is going well, albeit extremely slow to my disappointment.

I wish I can do this more—write—but my veins have been empty for years now. I no longer have the ability to sit behind a screen and bleed like I once did. Perhaps I've bled out completely.

I had thought I'd write forever. . .and I know I will return to it consistently one day, but today isn't that day.

I think I am just now learning that I cannot see into the future—silly realization to discover at twenty-five, I know. It's just that, after this surgery, I've learned that I do not live life day-by-day. I live it year-by-year.

Things do not change overnight. They change with time. I don't quite know how to feel about that. On one hand, it signifies that change is subtle, implicit, hard to notice. On the other hand, it means I can live to see another day, starting fresh every morning, for yesterday was insignificant.

I thought the world of myself despite despising myself as a child. At this point in my life, I thought I would have had it all, but I don't. Rather, I have regressed and fell down even lower than I did as a child. It's quite embarrassing, and almost no one is responsible but myself.

I have done things I never thought I would do, and events that I never thought would transpire have, indeed, transpired. This is a good thing sometimes. I mean, if you had told me at seventeen that I would work with children—whom I have never been fond of—I would have been confused. I am still confused, but I see the burdens I uplift off their shoulders, and that is enough of a reason for me to fight off their demons. Other times, it is shameful—so much so that I can never admit my faults to anyone.

I'm starting to realize that life is truly a book: you don't know what's going to happen next until you reach the next chapter.