There’s something dry and different about the air in my room when it’s 4 in the morning and I can’t sleep.
When I wake up like this in a factual combination of too warm, exhausted, frustrated and just enough energy to entertain thought of maybe going on a run (one that I’ll immediately regret before I even hit the light pole three houses down), I am often shocked to see the sun actually coming up around 6:30. Like there was a chance that the version of me, alone in my room, watching Sense and Sensibility and thinking about scheduling a hair cut might be permanent. “If you keep making that face, it’ll stick like that forever.”
For the rest of the day, I have this ownership that I’ve been through it and fought the good fight with the day. A kind of understanding that no one else has of what the entirety of the day really meant– what December 29 really was all about.
Moments like these give me just enough time to be completely alone with my mind, but tired enough not too linger too long on any one thought.
Playing Tetris of scheduling my day.
Deciding what it is that I like and don’t like about being an associate adult.
Wondering if it’s possible to look cool while scrambling eggs or if I just look like someone who’s scrambling eggs.
Hoping that in the dark of my room, the large pile of clean laundry on the floor to my left is getting smaller with age like an old lady.
Thinking about each one of my friends in a roll call of daily reminiscence and motherly concern.
Then also the hard, strong stuff will walk across my mind at the kind of steady pace that you’d see someone walking to work.
This one, like a sting: I can’t believe what this one single year has held.
I can’t believe that there were so many moments of total “over and done” in just one year.
I can’t believe I’m 23 and still single and living at home and not getting to live life with my best friends.
Once every three minutes, I remind myself that I have no control over what happens in my life.
Once every three minutes and three seconds, I remind myself that it is best that I have no control over what happens in my life.
And then those thoughts keep walking along and get put back in the box of weird life things and I start thinking about shaving my arm pit hair again.
I want 2014 to be closed out- for all different sorts of preservation. I can’t say that I’m totally excited for 2015 yet. But that’s only because excited isn’t the right word. I’m ready for it. I want it to be good.
Ok, I feel like 2015 has the feeling of running into an ex boyfriend at Urban Outfitters. Not the love of your life ex boyfriend, but just a guy you dated for a few months that one summer. You seriously wish him all the best in the world, but if you had your way, you also would have just rather been at Urban Outfitters and not seen him at all. You were doing fine and now he’s standing in front of you and you feel like you should laugh at the not very funny joke he just made. I don’t like 2015 and I don’t want to laugh at it’s dumb jokes.
Pre-sunrise, sleepy, morning, melancholy is real and it will eat you alive.
If Kaitlin’s friends weren’t in the living room sleeping, I’d take a bath.
2015 is going to be a big year for baths and me.