I feel trapped right now.
I’m in my desk at work, in front of my nice big computer screen, with an iced coffee, my phone running Summoners War on autopilot, with my sleek expensive bag and my even sleeker, even more expensive shoes pinching my feet. I’m wearing a silk-lined blazer and my face is stripped of anything resembling goth makeup (my black nails are still here, though, AND they’re here to stay). The atmosphere is quiet and cold and there are a fuckton of papers and documents on my desk.
It’s 2:21 in the afternoon, meaning I have an hour and 39 minutes to go until I can scan myself biometrically and head out to school. It will take me an hour to get to school, and inside the classroom I will have to endure Arctic-level air conditioning, hyper-competitive classmates, and a dull, hunger-induced headache until my class ends at 9PM and I emerge, hopefully unscathed by the rotated recitation that everyone dreads.
Then I will begin my two-hour journey home, sitting squished between two bigger people (oh, the disadvantages of being tiny!) and barely getting to glance at my phone screen as I try to study for the next class, the words in the cases blurring together as my fatigue and sleepiness threaten to take over.
When I finally get home at almost midnight, I sink into my bed and power up my laptop, too tired to clear all the books and papers and jackets huddled at the foot of my bed. I pull a pillow over my head and my boyfriend will call, his voice calm and soothing, pulling me into our nightly good-night call ritual. He is funny and endearing and so, so sweet and everything is finally all right. We will see each other again soon, during our regular date schedule, but through our lunch time and nightly calls, we are together.
Then the call ends because we have to sleep. I’m barely awake, but I set up my alarm for the next day (5:00 AM), pack food for lunch and snacks, lay out my clothes and books and essentials. Then I will open Google Docs and try one last read-through before I finally fall asleep.
Okay, what the hell happened to my life? I wanted to be zen and laid-back and happy. I wanted to be a minimalist vegetarian with strong anti-consumerist values. I wanted to be a marine biologist or oceanographer, for heaven’s sake. What am I doing? Why am I in law school? Why am I in government service? Why am I poring over investment opportunities, studying heavy books and boring cases, doing all of these day in and day out? I’m supposed to be inside a submersible deep in the ocean or inside a laboratory examining specimen slides and sending out probes into the bathyal zone to collect samples.
I’m sorry if it sounds like I’m complaining. I know I have no right to complain. It’s just that my life is a complete polar opposite from what I want it to be that it drives me crazy.
But then, I know that this is better for the long run.
Still doesn’t make me feel better, though.