origami-menu

[origami-menu]

Menu for 7.25.21 - oat milk matcha latte, english muffin pizza, fried egg

This is probably a very bad idea. I should be studying for that $600 exam (that I can't believe) I signed up for. Or working on my manuscript that needs to be submitted literally next week. But this is what I've chosen to do instead--lie in bed, start another project that'll surely fizzle out in a few weeks, and feel sad and tired and like total garbage.

There's a thought behind this online diary, that it might be good to have a place where I can dump all the garbage so it's not rotting away inside of me. In short, this is just me taking out the trash. (The more I run with this metaphor, the less I like it lol.) And since I also like to cook, eat, and take photos of food, why not make it a food diary?

Anyway, let's get back to the problem at-hand--I hate myself tonight. You'd think I'd learn a thing or two from doing this life thing for 26 years, spending a few of them in and out of therapy, consuming mental health content, meditating, etc, etc, and around the block. But there are still times where I wallow in my negative thoughts because, at least for today's reason, I can't seem to be productive (in the way that matters). I had grandiose plans for the weekend--I was going to dig into my pharmacotherapy studies, knock out a good chunk of my manuscript, and maybe even do some light lit search.

Instead, today I went on an impromptu trip to Goodwill, thrifted some pretty plates to display in my apartment, ran the dishwasher, and discovered a new YouTube channel of a 26-year-old like me, except she lives in Japan and radiates calming vibes. (Her channel is Usako style btw.)

My vibes, on the other hand? Deflated--somehow, I have this imagery of me stomping them into the ground. Sometimes I'm so resentful of how spoiled and selfish and lazy I am, and I wish I could just stomp it all away. With bright yellow rainboots. Or Converse can do, I guess. Not Nike.

The thought of my 10-hour shift tomorrow. Stomp. My tired face and frizzy hair. Stomp, stomp. Being the new girl, alone, torn away from the found family I had at my old hospital. Stomp, stomp, stomp. My parents making me feel like I'm in the wrong and single-handedly responsible for "our family being like this." Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.

STOMP.

I don't think I have the energy to unpack everything at this moment. It's almost midnight, and I'm a little nauseous (probably due to PMS). Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow. Please let me feel better tomorrow.

In a last-ditch effort to balance out the negativity in this post, I'll list 3 things I'm grateful for:

The fruit salad I ate this morning because it's been so long since I've had nata de coco

That I was reasonable enough to make lunch (depicted above) at home instead of spending money at a bougie, overpriced cafe

The arrangement of pretty plates and such on my desk--it aligns with my aesthetic, which sparks joy