Week 44 continued to suck. Many words, little fun.
Friday's Design class was very interesting as usual. Petr talked about canvases and grids with a very high level of detail, and drew various comparisons to mathematics; physics; information technology; artificial intelligence; and more. It was quite amazing exactly how much (sensible) things he could say about a single sheet of paper with a simple grid that was laying on the table.
At a certain point, while all the students were completely silent and being very attentive to what was being said by the teacher, a friend of mine tapped me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear; I think you should fuck censored,
while said person what sitting right next to me and could possibly even overhear it. I had a very tough time oppressing my laughter and felt as if I had stranded in a sauna (with my suit on).
Although one could think of situations where you'd feel more comfortable, it was actually quite a relieve. I had been dealing with anxiety all morning: there were even instances I considered heading home. I guess this was caused by the fact I was getting very little sleep all week.
Perhaps because of this funny intermezzo (who knows?), I was able to sit through the rest of the class. I'm glad, because I learned a great deal: even though I already followed this class last year. On the other hand, it also felt good when class was finally over and I could head home, and that's exactly what I did: I didn't hang around for drinks and chatter.
Just when I was about to leave the building, a female voice called my name. I turned around … it was Tessa. She explained she'd been able to convert the music from her CD to MP3, so we could add them to the interactive presentation we'd been working earlier that week. I said I didn't have much time, but that I could at least have a look at it. We went to the computer room, but before we entered, she came to realize she forgot to bring the new CD. I said it was ok since I didn't have much time on my hands anyway, and we agreed to meet up the next Wednesday again (same time, same place).
On my way home I wasn't feeling as anxious as I was in class, nor as I was on my way home at the start of the week. Perhaps I was feeling more relaxed because of the weekend that had just kicked in.
I don't know what exactly it was I did after I got home, but hours flew by, after which I went out to play some basketball. There were a lot of people on the court which have all been steadily been converted to basketball players (they used to play soccer). We even played some full-court four-on-four. It was a lot of fun, but when it started to rain about, I headed home. I was right on time for dinner.
Later that night I there'd be a party at Jurriaan's place where I'd been invited, but even though I didn't feel too bad, I didn't exactly feel like going to a party either. It's not that I didn't feel like socializing: it's just that I would probably freak the fuck out (or at least be very uncomfortable, which is also not a pleasant way to spend a night at a party).
I should probably have used this to go to bed early for once (well, duh), but I didn't (big, dumb stupid-head). As if that wasn't enough I was woken abruptly—very early in the morning—by a painful sting under my right eye. I whiped a mosquito from my face, and felt a lump where I had felt the sting. I then proceede—sleep drunk—to position a mosquito-net around me. (Luckaly, I hadn't taken it off the ceiling yet.)
Of course, I woke up late (early in the afternoon). I didn't feel bad, but didn't feel like getting up either. I watched TV for a couple of hours before actually moving my butt. I looked outside, was disappointed by the weather (the sun was shining, but it was extremely moisty), and proceeded to actively waste time.
Around dinner time, I went out to get some fries to go with what my mom had been cooking. I didn't take long at all, but I managed to have experience quite some anxiety anyway. Not a good prospect for the rest of the day.
I did eat my dinner, but after that, I rappidly started feeling worse and worse. It actually crew to be one of the worst days in months. In order to find some distraction, I did what I always do, and that is go outside and play basketball. It was still very moisty, and there were a whole bunch of kids that were arguing/fighting and talking stupid nonsense to my head. That was not actually helping me … at all. After mere minutes I got annoyed enough to decide to head home.
From there it went downhill, still. I haven't experienced it this bad for quite some time. I dropped on my bed, closed my eyes, and just lay there; trembling, heart pounding, sweating … the entire package. When I had calmed down slightly, I moved my ass to my computer and played Bejeweled non-stop, while listening to some discussion programs that were playing on the TV set behind me.
This way, I was able to pull through a very sucky evening untill I headed to the showers and went to bed. Around that time I didn't feel half as bed, and fell asleep quite easily (after setting back the clock an hour for day saving time, that is … which is great, as my current rythm could use the extra hour).
The next morning (today), I woke up pretty late again, but feeling a ton better (although that doesn't mean much, per sé, as the previous day didn't start of that bad either). I actively wasted a lot of time again, but decided to go play some 'ball before dinner this time.
There were even more people on the court than usual, so we did a lot of full-court play again. I was enjoying myself as I watched people improve on their game as growing baboo, and was dishing out some insanely sexy passes myself. I was also jumping around my maximum, and hitting far more shots than I was missing. One just can't ask for much more when playing basketball.
The fun was spoiled for me personally, though, when Enrique passes the ball in my face. He was about two feet away from me, and passed the ball really … really hard. Their was pain and then there was the realization I could put my jaws together properly anymore. This got me extrenely pissed off.
I kicked the fence and then claimed possessing of the ball. Enrique felt the ball just went out of bounce via my head and therefor was still in their possession. He might have been right, but it was the wrong answer anyway. I checked whether my jaws would fit together now: they wouldn't. I landed my fist into a pole, and packed my shit. At this point I noticed everybody was completely silent. I yelled something about it, said I was going, and went.
When I got home, my mother had prepared dinner. The taste was extraordinary good, but the sensation of chewing was not. Oh well, at least I was able to chew … I think this thing will go over by itself. (It better.)
Not a fun week. The next better be better.
ACJ1 comments so far.
Everyone has his bad weeks. So do I. I have people actually advising me to see a psychologist, but I don't see that happen. I'll live to tell the tale. But man, what a bad luck on the jaw. That really is bad. I wish you the best of luck for this week.
Posted by: Rob Mientjes on October 31, 2004, at 22:34