Irriguous

I jumped out of bed at 8:36AM this morning and literally small-danced-slash-clumsy-waltzed out to the dining room. Made myself a pot of Geisha Blossom and read the papers over a bowl of fruits. Felt liberated from my severe ignorance of wordly affairs even though I barely got through my little pile of what I'd like to think of as my 'little steps to success at GP'.

Noshed on a soy milk popsicle while making lunch with Mum. Can I get a hell yeah for 2 calorie noodles?! Shirataki is truly a miracle.

Worked on my Shakespeare essay while I waited for Rachel to come over. We went through the case study on protectionism and balance of payments (uninteresting as hell). Noshed some more on grapes and a box of bird's nest. Walked down to the pool to divert potential oncoming hunger. There weren't many people for a Sunday afternoon and I cleared 28 laps easily. In the pool I felt quiet and calm and my thoughts aligned in a focused and central direction. It seems easy to organize them into logical chains and discard those that do not adhere. I designate a specific number of laps to 'complete' each thought before moving on to the next and that feels satisfying, like I've continuously checked off each task in a to-do list.

I thought about the people I lost interest in. I thought about the people who have lost interest in me. I tried to decipher what happened along the way but I decided I didn't want to know. I guess I am good at having bad feelings. I wished I was a girl that belonged only to myself, a girl who existed on her own terms. I am an uncollected mess that has been sifted through and through. Now it's hard to know what I'm thinking or why I do what I do. Sometimes I yearn for companionship but it's quite the irony because I am not the first person you'd think about when it comes to maintaining relationships.

I also thought about my unevenly developed feelings towards jeans. I have vivid memories of my fifteen year old self telling Qianying that "I hate jeans" and "would never wear them". Such claims are now kicking me in the face because I have come to shocking realization that a quarter of last month's purchases were jeans.

I did more things after that but I can't remember
I don't remember much anymore
I killed my memories somewhere along the way
But I don't really care

Off to some hairy business