Life is short, week 34 of 52

Status report: Phantom cigarette smoke triggering so much of my adult asthma, but hey, I can still breathe at the end of the day. Also losing sleep because Chester has been extra clingy lately and wanting his head rubs WHEN HE WANTS THEM, which is usually when it’s 2 am in the timezone I work. I’m lucky with him — and I am grateful for it.

Moments of the week that made me remember how life is short:

1. A reset of where you are and who you are. I’ve been working in a space not my own, on my own for a dozen years. It’s been a weird feeling of feeling very comfortable and uncomfortable all at the same time. I’ve worked hard and made a lot of connections through the years, good and bad. I tell people I meet that a lot of my job is translation, and on good days, the translation you’ll see makes a difference with others, and on others, the necessity of it just makes the blood run cold. Last week was one of the cold blooded days where I had to remember to breathe deep and go high when another person went low. It’s something I struggle with after, because too often, when you’re not what people “expect” or are used to, you always have to be the bigger person. It’s exhausting, but when I think about it, I can’t change how people react to me or others like me, I can only change how I respond to it. The way to move forward is a slog, but it’s necessary.
2. Accepting the limitations of where I am at this point in my life — when it comes to stamina and endurance. Please get your mind out of the gutter. All I mean is being able to stay up late like I used to. Even in my early twenties, friends always found a place for me to nap when we had chill nights drinking. I remember literally being told when I arrive at a space, where I could go and have my nap that I always had to have at some point. This weekend was the same. I had so much caffeine. I took half the day off to energize. It still was me by hour 26 of being so sleep deprived I couldn’t remember what I texted people. I have literally reread texts I sent the day after, and not having the memory of why I did that or what I actually wanted to say. In a room of (mostly) people younger than me, I was fighting to stay awake and wanted to really be there, but I had to admit defeat at some point. It’s a sobering idea, but also something I won’t worry about. It is what it is.
3. Being in the same space with people I’ve spent most of my waking hours with for the past year or so. Adding to the sleep deprivation, the difficulty of being safe in the time of a global pandemic, the fact that there was a not easy amount of rain the past couple days, people needing to fly in, Metro Manila traffic, all these other things all came together this weekend. If only several hours of sharing a meal and an experience together. These former simulations of people are now actual humans, and I will always be grateful for that.

Song of the week: Maybe This Time by Liza Minnelli

-J