I apologize for not posting much recently- between Prime Hook and my current exhaustion, I've been a little uninspired and at a general loss of things to say.
Earlier this week I was sick, nothing serious, just enough to make me miserable. When I drove myself to the clinic, I was completely delerious in my fever- the road made me nervous and unsure, and I felt like I wasn't making sense as I spoke with the people at the desk. I felt so warm that I was completely convinced I would combust on the spot. They told me to drink water and check my temperature and sent me away- scolding me for my addiction to coke zero.
Besides my sudden lack of physical fortitude, there are a number of things that are signalling the end of the summer. I find myself in the office more, putt-putting around until I feel guilty about receiving a paycheck and try to find something to do. I'm not sleeping as well, which isn't really surprising or a big deal. I cycle through these periods of sleeplessness as steadily as seasons, so the fact that I'm in the middle of a dry spell is a big indicator of the arrival of the homestretch.
This lack of restfullness is a really bad thing. I'm a completely different person when I get enough sleep. This isn't an exaggeration, for once: ask anyone. I'm terrible when I don't sleep. So now I'm turning into a version of myself I really dislike- my temper is shorter, I'm snarky, moody, selfish. Instead of being midly inconvenienced and amiable about the dirty dishes my housemates let pile up ('Oh, I'm sure they were just busy and will get to it') the sight of a single dirty utensil will drive me into fury. I mean- you just put your bowl in the dishwasher, you couldn't take the time to put ONE FORK in the wash? I feel like a maid, piling things I didn't dirty into the dishwasher over and over.
On top of my permanent scowl darkening the clubhouse, a few of the other interns have taken their own greivances to the airwaves. Complaining about the swamp, a lack of phone service, and the ac that doesn't blow quite how you want it won't make the end of your visit any better, it won't make the weeks go any faster.
And sure- having to stand in a heard of mosquitoes to make a splotchy, crackly phone call is not ideal, but at least I can talk to my family at all. I'm sorry you were thristy and forgot to put a Sprite in the fridge for you smouldering day in the office, but the heat index was 107 yesterday and there are people installing structures and fighting fires. (Not me, I've become so useless-but there were people in the heat all day, and you were thirsty? Alright.)
It's not about what you don't have, or how bad you think you have it- it's about acknowledging what privelege you do have and making the best.
I know I may be a little hypocritical with this post (duly acknowledged), but if I don't get these feelings of frustration out I swear I'll just burst. I'm more homesick than I've ever felt. I miss the company of my friends- the people that know when I'm joking and the people that can read the look on my face and call me out. The people that make absurd noises not because they have nothing better to fill the air with, but because our little group of bandits knows exactly when and who to sneak up behind.
I've never felt these degrees of homesickness. But I'm exhausted- I can't make any more small talk. I can't make awkward dinner conversation or be polite with those I don't care for. I'm tired of asking people where they're from, how they like the swamp. My lack of effort makes my apathy worse, which in turn has sent me spiralling into this terrible cycle of just...missing. My whole person aches for the familiar and the comforting.
This is how I know the homestretch has arrived. Plenty has happened this week- I drove a diesel around the refuge spraying for invasive Phragmites, I've met with USGS biologists and filled spreadsheets- but my head has been somewhere else. I want my skin to be the way it was when I arrived, unblemished by the violent swollen bites from the bugs and the harsh sun, and I want my mind to be as refreshed and anxious with excitement as it was when I first drove past that government brown sign and into summer.
I feel more mellow having gotten that out. Thanks for putting up with me, and wish me luck as I close out the last month of this curious summer.
Earlier this week I was sick, nothing serious, just enough to make me miserable. When I drove myself to the clinic, I was completely delerious in my fever- the road made me nervous and unsure, and I felt like I wasn't making sense as I spoke with the people at the desk. I felt so warm that I was completely convinced I would combust on the spot. They told me to drink water and check my temperature and sent me away- scolding me for my addiction to coke zero.
Besides my sudden lack of physical fortitude, there are a number of things that are signalling the end of the summer. I find myself in the office more, putt-putting around until I feel guilty about receiving a paycheck and try to find something to do. I'm not sleeping as well, which isn't really surprising or a big deal. I cycle through these periods of sleeplessness as steadily as seasons, so the fact that I'm in the middle of a dry spell is a big indicator of the arrival of the homestretch.
This lack of restfullness is a really bad thing. I'm a completely different person when I get enough sleep. This isn't an exaggeration, for once: ask anyone. I'm terrible when I don't sleep. So now I'm turning into a version of myself I really dislike- my temper is shorter, I'm snarky, moody, selfish. Instead of being midly inconvenienced and amiable about the dirty dishes my housemates let pile up ('Oh, I'm sure they were just busy and will get to it') the sight of a single dirty utensil will drive me into fury. I mean- you just put your bowl in the dishwasher, you couldn't take the time to put ONE FORK in the wash? I feel like a maid, piling things I didn't dirty into the dishwasher over and over.
On top of my permanent scowl darkening the clubhouse, a few of the other interns have taken their own greivances to the airwaves. Complaining about the swamp, a lack of phone service, and the ac that doesn't blow quite how you want it won't make the end of your visit any better, it won't make the weeks go any faster.
And sure- having to stand in a heard of mosquitoes to make a splotchy, crackly phone call is not ideal, but at least I can talk to my family at all. I'm sorry you were thristy and forgot to put a Sprite in the fridge for you smouldering day in the office, but the heat index was 107 yesterday and there are people installing structures and fighting fires. (Not me, I've become so useless-but there were people in the heat all day, and you were thirsty? Alright.)
It's not about what you don't have, or how bad you think you have it- it's about acknowledging what privelege you do have and making the best.
I know I may be a little hypocritical with this post (duly acknowledged), but if I don't get these feelings of frustration out I swear I'll just burst. I'm more homesick than I've ever felt. I miss the company of my friends- the people that know when I'm joking and the people that can read the look on my face and call me out. The people that make absurd noises not because they have nothing better to fill the air with, but because our little group of bandits knows exactly when and who to sneak up behind.
I've never felt these degrees of homesickness. But I'm exhausted- I can't make any more small talk. I can't make awkward dinner conversation or be polite with those I don't care for. I'm tired of asking people where they're from, how they like the swamp. My lack of effort makes my apathy worse, which in turn has sent me spiralling into this terrible cycle of just...missing. My whole person aches for the familiar and the comforting.
This is how I know the homestretch has arrived. Plenty has happened this week- I drove a diesel around the refuge spraying for invasive Phragmites, I've met with USGS biologists and filled spreadsheets- but my head has been somewhere else. I want my skin to be the way it was when I arrived, unblemished by the violent swollen bites from the bugs and the harsh sun, and I want my mind to be as refreshed and anxious with excitement as it was when I first drove past that government brown sign and into summer.
I feel more mellow having gotten that out. Thanks for putting up with me, and wish me luck as I close out the last month of this curious summer.
We all have times in our lives that we are less proud of. The trick is not letting those times ru(i)n our lives.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Mao- I'm learning to not let these things get the better of me!
DeleteSometimes we just have to be a duck.........time to be a duck.
ReplyDeleteDefinitely time to be a duck.
Delete