It's getting frustrating to sit inside.
And to be outside.
And to do anything, really.
My days have become chores, my vacation time didn't become one, my parents are pacing around the house and I'm eating too much candy and breathing tensely and slowly going a little crazy.
My dues are piling up. My diary from last year still isn't complete. My new one's easier to fill in - it's a five-year diary with but a portion of each page reserved for each individual year, but instead of feeling less pressure with less page space I'm missing the opportunity to write more now, yet can't seem to get to filing through missed pages from last year instead. I have weights on my mind that I'd like to heave off now, and the diary pages would be proper form.
I wonder if the covid's in my lungs, or in the airways somewhere. After I've been out walking I feel like it takes a while for me to catch my breath now. Like I never breath as deeply as I should. I spit out loads of phlegm during the walks, but get back feeling like there's more inside me than when I left.
Does the cold produce it? Does it just amplify the sensation a while after? Does it make it worse?
Maybe I shouldn't be outside at all, or walking at all, but with all the candy I've been eating I feel I have to. And yes I know I shouldn't be eating candy at all - especially such that contains milk, or gluten, or glucose-fructose - as some of my recently consumed ones do. It's like I don't care no more. Like I'm a teenager again. Like my hormones are imbalanced and a motor for perpetual angst.
I loath work. I fear phone calls from my sister - who calls every day now to check in with us - and up till recently I've been the only one able to take those calls, so we've talked to the point I feel I have nothing to say to her and don't really want to talk anymore. My mom's more energetic now. She's taking over.
She has no sense of taste or smell though. I had to tell her she might need a change of clothes. My dad doesn't hear well, and walks hunched over, and seems older than ever this last week. It's like his hearing's worsened too. He speaks to me in a fatherly way, offering advice on how I might need to shovel away the snow around my car before I drive to work on Monday - if I'm well enough to drive to work on Monday - as it might start melting and freeze over and become all the more difficult to shove. But I don't feel appreciative, more so just burned by what feel like additional responsibilities beyond all these concurrent household chores.
I washed the dishes a couple days, when my mom was at her worst, but she's taken over that particular duty again.
Usually she doesn't want anyone else to. The basin is her bastion; her exclusive purpose in this house.
Nobody's washing clothes though, or vacuuming the house. The floor's littered with dust and debris. My blankets are going yellow. My towel's sour. Christmas presents still gather on my desk, waiting for proper inventory.
I usually make notes as to who gave what, and take a collective photo of all gifts received, and then stash them away for future usage, wherever relevant.
The present I had highest hopes for this year - a gift to the whole family, wasn't received so well. I bought it months ago, so I can't take it back to the shop now. I'll be trying to sell it instead. Mint condition. Not used. Possibly highly desirable by others at near the initial price? I hope so. I don't want to lose anything on this most prestigious, and what I thought would be more appreciated, gift.
The Christmas decorations still stand high in the house. The tree's still there - it'll be taken out this Thursday if we're all well enough and everything goes as we plan. But I feel like I missed Christmas. Even now I'm not appreciating the décor as much as I should. We eat dinner in the living room, by the tree, with candles on the table, but I don't stay seated that long. I eat little since I'm not that hungry these days, but my plate's full. The dues are still there. Both last year's and new ones, and sometimes I wake up optimistic - intent on managing as much as possible with the span of time that lies before me, but usually the day ends without me accomplishing all I'd set out to, and thus nights leave me frustrated and disillusioned, and I stay up late even though I don't have the required focus for additional tasks, and wake up late, and the day's too short to manage all I'd like too, and I fall asleep later again...
I've taken no sick leave from work this time. Work days are limited and I need the money. I appreciate it more when less of it streams in. I'm intent on getting as much as I can from the job that I have right now. I've signed up for at least one lecture a week for four weeks in advance too, to make the most of the time I now have on the side, but I'm not particularly motivated in learning what they might teach me either. Not now. Not yet.
I took a bath yesterday, and poured out the contents of an age-old little yellow aroma duck with some fragrant bath-related concoction that's been saving away in my closet for all too long. Felt like it was time to use it, and to use the other similar, and colorful little complements I've held stashed away for too long now too.
It's time to live!
Feels good to clear out the closet at least a little, to not save up unnecessarily, on everything, as I feel I have for some time.
That's a recipe for stagnation, and you notice it in your life as you notice it with your items. When they near or pass their expiration dates. When they grow hard and unwieldly. When they break with age. When their reason for being is no longer, and it feels so unnecessary that you saved them all that time when they'd have been so much more useful earlier on, like the reason for saving them in the first place is no longer and maybe never was... I wonder if it's the same with money. Maybe I should spend. Maybe such savings are but a burden too.
But that bath was nice. I relaxed. I tested how long I could hold my breath underwater and was shocked when I managed over two minutes easy. Could I have been able to hold for three? I felt like I didn't want to try for longer than I was comfortable with, and the sheer amount of time that had passed then made me uncomfortable, even if I didn't actually feel like I needed to breath.
I haven't been doing any deep-breathing exercises lately so I wonder how I could've managed that... not to mention I have covid, and actually feel short on breath as I'm typing this, and I've grown fat. Wonder if it's a benefit of one of the many supplements I'm currently taking to battle this thing, or if it could possibly be that the levels of oxygen in my body are so low that I can actually hold my breath for longer as such an act helps it recover? Extra carbon dioxide in bloodstream = more oxygen? I'm curious. I wonder.
I took a late night walk instead of a bath today, but it didn't relax me the least.
I came back and had a talk with my mom and was overall just annoyed with everything, frustrated at the times and trials and amounting dues and responsibilities and what have you.
Not sure exactly which ones are bugging me the most. Not sure exactly what I need to do to feel better.
I'm glad I didn't say anything in anger though. She's asleep now and I'm sitting here, venting the best way I know how, and feeling better for it.
Maybe all I really need is a good sleep and I'll feel great in the morning.