HiveComb

It’s not the weekend yet, but for me it already feels like it because of our new schedule. At first glance, our schedule seemed like a blessing for us because who wouldn’t like three-day classes per week? However, that happiness soon vanished when I experienced how it feels to have that kind of schedule. It's exhausting beyond measure. It was only Wednesday yesterday, but I feel like I already received a week’s worth of fatigue. Unlike before, our schedule had some free time, but now it’s cramped to the point that there’s a day we get to miss our snack break. We had to endure almost six hours of straight classes, and by the time we finished our third period, I was almost to my fainting point.

I probably still haven’t adjusted to it, but still I feel like it’s hard because it’s been a long time since I experienced that kind of setup. The last time I had a whole-day class was way back in my high school years, when I, without doubt, was definitely with my fountain of youth. I guess that fountain had already dried by the time I graduated my younger years because now it seems everything felt like a drag. Almost everything is creaking in my body, and I know my dextroscoliosis is prolly worsening. Speaking of creaking bones, mentioning that reminds me that I’m just a couple days away from the yearly reminder I existed—yeah, my birthday.

In my younger years, in these days I was definitely excited and jittery about how I’d celebrate that day. Also, I’m looking forward to a lot of things, the majority of which are the greetings and gifts I’ll receive that day. But now that I’m significantly older, yet obviously still not wiser, I don’t look forward that much to that day anymore. Not that I’m not grateful that I was able to survive another year, but because I realized that it’s just another normal day. It somehow didn’t feel as special as it felt like before, prolly because it’s a warning that I’m a year closer to being dust again. I don’t want to sound pessimistic, but I think with this kind of body, I wouldn’t last long. Not that I wanted to anyway…because even though I’m part antisocial, I don’t want to be left alone. As much as possible, if I’m leaving, I wanted to be the first.

Sharing this felt weird because these thoughts just sprang out of my mind suddenly. I just remembered my coming birthday because my body is aching all over, meaning I’m really getting old. I’m just in my really early twenties…but it feels oddly older. Sigh, don’t mind me; maybe I’m just overreacting right now, or perhaps it’s one of the episodes of what they call birthday blues. Either way, if it’s just like that—I hope it’ll go away soon.