(no subject)
the days have grown darker so abruptly that i find myself caught off guard. at no point has winter's approach been more clearly stated than in the twenty minutes i was outside, walking down to get the mail, on friday. grey skies and snow in the mountains on the other side of the valley. coyotes were yipping and howling in the hills behind the house and the slightest drizzle of rain felt frozen. it's all telling me i need to get going. not that i need the reminder.
for years my brother has had a little sticky note on his computer monitor that reads "stop being a disappointment to everyone." this is his own imagination, as far as i can tell, but perhaps it serves him well enough. mine should read "stop being a disappointment to yourself." i am largely unburdened by the judgments of others, save a few. instead of a sticky note, though, mine is the changing weather; my reminder of failed plans and missed opportunities. for five months, now, i've slept on the floor of my parent's guest bedroom. i should have been gone three months ago. where i could have been teaching at an international school on the south side of seoul, hiking the pilgrim's trail from oslo to trondheim, taking accordion lessons, or building a kayak, i have been doing occasional yardwork and hiking too-few-times to be of any recon. i could have finished my TESL certificate or taken intensive korean classes. i could have done anything more worthwhile.
i put in for nine jobs last week and a further two so far today, but i'm not hearing much back.
i got one response so poorly written that i had a hard time making out most of it. "i hopely want to listen to you." the only other was from a tiny, single-instructor school on an island one hour out of busan by ferry. i don't know if it would be awesome or just miserably lonely.
if i ever get out of here, all i'll have to show for it is my broken shoes, greater debt, crippling self-loathing, and a set of stoneware plates i bought for seven bucks at the thrift store.
maybe today is just a bad day. my mom's dog is probably going to die and i'm the only one home with her. i'm not sure what i feel worse about, that she's dying or that i've never liked her in the first place. she teeters on the edge of catatonia and only occasionally gets up, just to stand halfway out of her bed stare at the floor. it's heart-wrenching and i do not deal well with these things. i prefer my emotions dead, buried, and left bloody well alone.
for years my brother has had a little sticky note on his computer monitor that reads "stop being a disappointment to everyone." this is his own imagination, as far as i can tell, but perhaps it serves him well enough. mine should read "stop being a disappointment to yourself." i am largely unburdened by the judgments of others, save a few. instead of a sticky note, though, mine is the changing weather; my reminder of failed plans and missed opportunities. for five months, now, i've slept on the floor of my parent's guest bedroom. i should have been gone three months ago. where i could have been teaching at an international school on the south side of seoul, hiking the pilgrim's trail from oslo to trondheim, taking accordion lessons, or building a kayak, i have been doing occasional yardwork and hiking too-few-times to be of any recon. i could have finished my TESL certificate or taken intensive korean classes. i could have done anything more worthwhile.
i put in for nine jobs last week and a further two so far today, but i'm not hearing much back.
i got one response so poorly written that i had a hard time making out most of it. "i hopely want to listen to you." the only other was from a tiny, single-instructor school on an island one hour out of busan by ferry. i don't know if it would be awesome or just miserably lonely.
if i ever get out of here, all i'll have to show for it is my broken shoes, greater debt, crippling self-loathing, and a set of stoneware plates i bought for seven bucks at the thrift store.
maybe today is just a bad day. my mom's dog is probably going to die and i'm the only one home with her. i'm not sure what i feel worse about, that she's dying or that i've never liked her in the first place. she teeters on the edge of catatonia and only occasionally gets up, just to stand halfway out of her bed stare at the floor. it's heart-wrenching and i do not deal well with these things. i prefer my emotions dead, buried, and left bloody well alone.