Perspective

Thursday. Both my favorite day and my dreaded day. It means sleeping in till lunchtime, but it also means staying up till 3am trying to complete a lab report I don’t understand.

I’ve fallen into a routine over the past weeks, and I woke up today expecting the same. The powers that be had different plans.

I crawled out of bed at 11am, groggy despite having slept for 9 hours (if only I could afford this luxury more often). Grabbed my stuff, went for a shower… only to come back to find myself locked out of the room.

Definitely not the greatest way to start off. Though it obviously was my fault for not bringing my keys with me. But that’s not the point of this post. Anyway, my first thought was, “Great, getting locked out first thing in the morning. Today’s gonna be a bad day for sure.”

I immediately stopped myself, because the only thing worse than starting off your day badly is to expect the rest of your day to go badly as well, because it will. So I made it a point to be happy today – to do the little things that seem simple but mean so much. Greet people. Smile. Donate a dollar. Be cheerful.

And it worked out in the end. Despite getting locked out, despite confusing lab sessions that take forever, I actually had a pretty good day. So good, that when I went to buy my Halloween costume, a kind lady gave me a coupon for 20% discount simply because she didn’t need it anymore.

What I’m trying to say is that it’s all a matter of perspective. Your life is what you make it to be. So wake up tomorrow, smile, and promise yourself that you’re going to make it a good day.

Counting the stars.

9.30 a.m.

Today it is gloomy outside. Clouds drape the sky like a mass, velvet blanket.The sun hides behind the shedding oaks, its pale yellow rays filtering through the void that grows wider day by day.

I walk slowly to my Italian class, my footsteps falling heavily, one after another. Thump. Thump. Thump. I suddenly notice that my messenger bag feels uncharacteristically heavy; when I first used it, it felt light as a feather. That was two months ago, when I just came here.

“How things have changed,” I thought to myself.

11.50 a.m.

An incoming text message breaks me out of my reverie.

What was I doing?

Oh. I had been staring at a visual representation of an oxygen molecule on my laptop screen, feeling completely overwhelmed. Ever lie down and look up and the vast sky, and suddenly understand how insignificant we all are? That was exactly how it felt at that very moment, except that the subject matter was nothing as all-encompassing as the meaning of life.

Fuck chemistry. I go down to lunch.

3.00 p.m.

The wind feels warm today. It reminds me of home, of warm, humid afternoons spent idly reading Paulo Coelho.

I don’t read Coelho anymore.

This graphic novel I’m reading (for my freshman seminar) is referencing Henry James’ The Portrait of a Lady.

What’s that?

I don’t read for the sake of reading, not anymore.

4.00 p.m.

‘Isabel Archer, the heroine, leaves America for Europe. She’s filled with heady notions about living her life free from provincial convention and constraint. Isabel turns down a number of worthy suitors, but perversely accepts Gilbert Osmond, a cultured, dissipated, and penniless European art collector.

Isabel Archer then learns that Gilbert had been having an affair all along with the woman who introduced them. But too good for her own good, Isabel remains with Gilbert… and despite all her youthful hopes to the contrary, ends up “ground in the very mill of the conventional.”‘

– Alison Bechdel’s summary of James’ The Portrait of a Lady.

4:20 p.m.

Dan Layus sings, “It’s never too late.”

Hey, look, hey. The sun is out.