The week of the 15th was the first week I have been without a grading project, and with the exception of one more, which will probably last no more than a week, I am looking at the beginning of a future where I have no job but will have to pretend to my parents that I do have a job. While I am looking for a job, I have to keep up this ruse that I don't need to look for one because I already have one.
That means that, every day, I have to get up and ... well, I have to get up. That's the #1 Objective, at least for now. This would be the perfect time for my body to revert back to its natural cycle, which means sleeping at 5 in the morning and waking up at 1 in the afternoon. But that would mean catching shit from my parents, in particular My Fucking Father, so that's a no-go.
But a funny thing happened. I've actually been sleeping at decent times, like normal people. Maybe even moreso: I had been conking off around 10 and waking up at 6, 7 in the morning. When that happens I try to fall back asleep, and sometimes I do (getting some monster nightmares in the process) and sometimes I don't. Regardless, I naturally get up, fully rested, and I have nothing else to do but to start my day.
What to do ... well, that has been the issue. While I have been looking for work, there's only so much you can do before your eyes glaze over. Then you see it's 10:30 in the morning. So I've been working out, trying to find the odd job at the U., watching movies, working on some writing, and trying to stay awake. Goddamn, why can't I just sleep in?!
My whole ordeal with my car dominated last week, of course. I can't believe how one act of God (I swear I shut that damn hood!) messed up an entire workweek, even if I didn't have a full-time job. You have to plan so many things around it, and if you can't do something because you don't have a car, being home is king of like being in jail, not the freedom I thought it would be (of course, it doesn't help that your parents are slumming at home as well).
I have found on my days of unemployment that Wednesdays are the worst. You're not trying to start your body clock for the workweek and the weekend is too far away to look forward to. Hump Day? No kidding. Most Wednesdays I would lock myself in a library and just surf the shit. I get a lot done, but then I have a lot of time to think to myself that I should be doing something else than being cooped up in a library. Hell, on Wednesdays I come up with blog posts like this. Yesterday I planned on doing the same thing until I decided to knuckle under Mother's mean comment that I was getting fat, grabbed my belly fat, and decided to exercise instead.
This week, however, I am reverting back to my normal sleep schedule. I woke up at 10:30 Monday, way later than I thought I would, especially after taking a good long nap Sunday evening. But the only comment I got while bolting out of the house "for work" was Father saying something like, "You go to work this late?" I've set up alarms the past two days for, respectively, 9:30 and 9. And I hit the bed for five hours tonight, so I might go back to sleep once again. I should keep up the ruse of having a normal workday, but I can't because I'm just so fucking tired. I am aided by what appears to be my parents' insouciant reaction to leaving the house at odd times, none of them as early as my 7 or 7:30 departures earlier in the summer. Seriously, the only thing I hear them say (even though it's not like I give them time to talk to me) is, "Going to work?" They might not care that I have irregular hours. Shit, they might not care if I'm working or not, to tell the truth. Well, I'm not going to push it by sleeping in till 1 in the afternoon, but maybe this limbo state is OK, for now at least?
No comments:
Post a Comment