#00159: Post a Day – 2
I woke up late today.
I got dressed really quickly, sorted what I need for college and made my way to the car.
It was 7:31. It takes about 30 minutes to get to my uni. My class starts at 8:45. I was absent last time because I overslept. 2 more absences and I won’t be allowed to sit the exam.
Oh, shit. I think it starts at 8:30. I can make it. No worries. No need to panic.
I got to the parking lot at around 8:03. Cool. It takes about another 15 minutes walk to the class. I have time.
I chilled in the car, smoked a couple of cigarettes.
It is now 8:13.
Oh, fuck. The class starts at 8:15.
8 fucking 15. I’ll definitely be late.
Better late than never, right?
I’m fat. I run out of breath very quickly. I’m not athletic like I once was.
And the walk to the class reinforced that fact even further.
A sweaty, out-of-breath me made it to the class. I opened the door and the first thing I notice was that the student were arranged in an exam-mode setting.
I make eye contact with the professor who tells me I’m 30 minutes late for the exam.
“Exam?” I ask. What fucking exam?!
“Did you sit the exam last week?” the professor asks.
Yes I did.
It turns out this is re-sit exam for other students.
There was no lecture today.
I didn’t know that because I was absent last week.
I walk back to the car to get my cigarettes.
(This is my second post-a-day post. It wasn’t a good day. I woke up with the cardinal sign of getting sick soon: sore throat. I’m still not settled in Jordan. I feel alone and scared. I got into a fight with my wife over the phone because I expect her to help but she can’t. No one can. My mood isn’t good, even with all the Lyrica I’ve pumping into my system. The thing is: I don’t know. I simply don’t know what to do. I’m lost. Very lost. Back in Europe, life was structured. Over here, there is no structure. Individuality is a weakness. I keep binge-eating late at night just so I can feel comfortable. I’m scared, people. But no one can help me. To survive in this place, a fucking mask is an essential necessity. My real self is quiet. To survive, I must be loud. I must lie. I can’t handle this. At least not at the moment. I blogged, though. I sat down and did something I promised I’d do. That’s good. At least something good came out of this miserable day in this shitty place filled with the type of assholes that were mocking me for having a different accent. I just want to binge, watch a movie or videos on YouTube, and sleep. I guess this fatigue is sign that the fever is coming soon. Or is it another bout of depression? Is there a way for me to show you I’m feeling? Maybe if I did, it would be easier for you to find a solution. If you read this, thank you. This blog is the fine thread of rope I’m holding. What is it attached to, I have no clue. Again, friend, thank you for reading this nonsense. Good night.)