All day I stayed in bed getting as much sleep as I can before I end up really getting sick from all the fatigue of last month. There was so much that had happened in a short period of time. If 2020 forced us to slow down and take the year one day at the time, everything that halted then felt like it caught up this year and it just hasn’t stopped yet.
Now I only have less than 40 minutes to think of what to write and send it out to the world. Just like this year, 40 minutes seems like such a long enough time to think, do and present but it actually isn’t. What it does is it creates adrenaline so I can meet my personal deadline, resulting in a not-so-good, not so entertaining story with possibly no value to it. 2021 seems to be just like that. I remember at the beginning of the year making a decision to restart life. I wanted to start new things, learn things I never got the chance to while at University. I wanted to create a new life. You see, when Covid halted everything, and we tiptoed around it trying to understand how to live our lives again. Now that we know how to navigate around this pandemic, the rest of life zoomed through as if there is no virus lurking around anymore. And vaccines aren’t yet given to everyone. Imagine what it’ll be like once everyone’s vaccinated.
I have, indeed, started and revisited habits that I said I wanted to get into. This year, I began seriously going into studying Korean as I become more and more engrossed in the culture. Then I restarted dancing again, although it’s not as consistent as my Korean lessons. It was a part of my childhood I was never embarrassed to show off. I am in a women’s organization that is just about to commence officially. Now, halfway through the year, I decided to start writing daily. Whether it is to just let out thoughts without any thought process or to practice writing with some sort of structure. And finally, I keep accepting sewing projects that I can easily do outside of my work hours so I can stay creative.
You see, I haven’t paused yet. Not fully. I am afraid to stop, though. I’m too scared that stopping will only resurface an old habit that is procrastination. I tend to procrastinate a lot. Heck, I still do it. Some sewing projects have been pushed and pushed because the only times I have left in the day were often filled by these other works that I keep piling onto myself. Sewing requires time and space and right now, I barely have any of it. I do not even have the time to get sick that I drank medicine as soon as I started feeling it coming, drank orange juice, and ate as many mandarins as I could, because, honey, getting sick will force me to stop. I. Don’t. Want. To. Stop. Not now. Not when I can make choices for myself. Not when my time is mine.
But honey, I’m not gonna lie. I am tired.
40 minutes is not up, and I have written about 540 words. The adrenaline had kicked in. But I bet, once I read this tomorrow, I’d be hitting my head asking, “What was I thinking”. I know this does not make any sense, but who said journaling has to? It just needs to be genuine, vulnerable and authentic. Right?
