Look with your eyes, not with your hands.


Such a minute fraction of this life do we live: so much is sleep, tooth-brushing, waiting for mail, for metamorphosis, for those sudden moments of incandescence: unexpected, but once one knows them, one can live life in the light of their past and the hope of their future.



A grad student muses on her life, film, friends, politics, reality televizzle, and music.

 
Cherished Independence

My mother just happens to be in one of her irrational cleaning-fit frenzy, no one appreciates me, and everything is everyone else's fault moods - believe you me, what I wouldn't give for my own apartment to be mine already and not have to deal with this unexpected emotional hurricanes that descend when least expected. Nothing like coming home from work to get snapped and then, embarrassed not to be a bigger person, to let it bother me. From the moment I walked in the door she told me that she didn't like my clothes, I had to change my sheets, that I should have eaten dinner before I went to work, that I couldn't use the washing machine until she was finished, that I had to get up early to drive her, and that (for whatever reason?) I shouldn't be making my lunch for tomorrow right now. Whatever, put some lotion on my sunburn and take a number to use the washing machine so I can have work clothes for tomorrow. To make matters **better** my mother's car is in the shop so I have to play chauffeur, get up two hours early and then get to stand for ten hours and smile at people who are always right even when they are clearly wrong. As soon as my polos go into the washer, I am taking my crabby self to bed.
posted by lmjasinski at 10:23 PM