(no subject)
This four-day weekend was desperately, painfully needed. I started counting down the minutes and the hours on Monday. Five long days of yearning to breathe, of staring at clocks and trying to force my brain to process the materials needed for my classes. Five days of looking at the study guides for botany and staring at the convoluted diagrams for photosynthesis and forgetting it after five minutes. I studied and studied ad studied and yet, I sat down to take that exam and it all dissipated, dissolving like smoke in a hurricane.
I have two days off. Two days off and I won't do a damn thing, except lay in the sun and play games and daydream. I want to lay in the lounge chair out beneath the redbud tree like I did today, to tilt my face up into the light and watch pink flowers fall onto my skin. I need something, anything, to repair the damage I've done to my mind this semester. And I swear, it really does feel vaguely damaged. A bit bruised and abused, and so unbelievably tired. I am TIRED, so mentally exhausted from this semester. And it's not like my grades are going to be spectacular. They're not. I'll be exquisitely lucky to escape my math class with the C I need, I will likely end up dropping botany after that godawful exam Friday, and chemistry? I have no idea. At least I'm doing well in...whatever that other class is that I'm taking. Except now it's turned into botany as well, no more A&P. I'm surrounded by plants. Everywhere, there are fucking plants. And while my professor isn't a BAD lecturer, he's...sometimes I just get really tired of listening to him talk. Nothing personal, really. It's just that he also uses lab for additional lecture time, and by the time I get to that point of my day, I am tired as hell and don't want to listen to ANYONE yammer on for another two hours.
I've always been an escapist. When I'm worn down by life in general, I tend to wander off down some sunlit mental corridor to a happier place and time. It's the "someday I'll" game. It changes from time to time. Sometimes it's a medley of bold and adventurous daydreams. Sometimes it's home-and-hearth. It is my personal ambrosia, that which sustains me and keeps me going.
Someday I'll...
-have my own place.
-hang the prayer flags my mom gave me for Christmas across a doorway in my home.
-have my own kitchen and it will be clean and tidy.
-have decent spice racks.
-buy spices in bulk and fill those clear glass jars you can buy at Fresh Market or Whole Foods with them. I already have tumeric and cardamom in them.
-Not be broke, and be able to sponsor a girl's education or business venture or all of the above through one of the charities I read about in Half the Sky.
-Have a clear, clean space to work and make beautiful things like alicia_stardust does.
-maybe join the Peace Corps or something similar. I'd like to travel after I finally escape this maze of undergraduate academia, and I'd like to do something good for the world. I'm really interested in medical initiatives, and literary/education initiatives. (Any suggestions?)
-build a cat condo for Tessy.
-Sleep in a bed I chose. Possibly with or without anyone else.
-Paint my home in the colors of the sea. Or at least part of it, because I do like other colors.
-Throw open my windows on cool fall mornings and drink hot tea ALL BY MYSELF.
-Sing showtunes while cleaning my house. And clean it often.
-See Maine again.
-Live in Asheville again. Maybe. God, I hope so. I don't want to always be looking back and seeing a trail of destruction and friends I miss but never see.
-Go to Canada. See thelittlebudgie and straysparrow andsapphirevampire and...who else of my flist lives in the frozen tundra? I'm coming to see you one of these days. (If you want.)
-Have a space for an altar.
-Grow things and make things with what I grow.
-Swim! Swim lots.
-See Montana. And see the West Coast.
-Live near water.
-Find a man who doesn't require killing.
-Cook whatever I damn well please.
-Have birds.
They're probably a little lame. I mean, sure, if the opportunity arose for me to climb a mountain or sail across the Atlantic, hell yes, I'd go for it. But my fantasies tend to be small and gentle and domestic. It doesn't take a lot to make me happy. I just want a happy nest. Is that so much to ask? I want a home decorated in colors I love, colors that bring me joy and serenity, with big windows, and I want my cat curled up like a little black comma next to me, snoring quietly as she hogs the bed. And above all, I want a home that's MINE. Mine, mine, MINE.
Quiet little daydreams.
They keep me sane.