TRANSPLANT

This morning, while walking to the train station, I saw a couple walking with their toddler. The girl was taking the tiniest steps and being fascinated by the tiniest things on the sidewalk and on her shoes and I heard her father sigh through his mask, but then he turned to her and said "good pace, good job!" and suddenly I felt better about the morning. The family eventually got to the same traffic light I was at, and I was going to jaywalk before the light turned green because there was no vehicular traffic, but then the little girl was there. I stopped myself and waited for the light, just in case she was looking at me and would emulate whatever she saw. 

I just got done with a boxing session, it was a really good one. I was able to do the correct moves at the correct pace, and I broke into quite a sweat. Tonight I'm going for Kristal's debut spin class, so that's another sweat I look forward to. I'm currently sitting in the basement of Guoco Tower waiting for the spin class, taking a break between doing my readings. This week has been a tough week, I keep thinking it might get better but it really isn't, every week feels tougher than the last. I've fucked up everywhere this week, at home, at work, in my personal life. My fuck-up at work actually cost quite a bit of money that could have been avoided if not for me messing it up.

At this moment in time, I've just read the timeline of indigenous history in Canada, and it feels heavy. My Indigenous lectures take place at 6.30am Friday, Singapore time, and my politics classes are 2.30am on Mondays and Wednesdays, so I attend them and then I go back to sleep for a few more hours. I don't think I'd ever acknowledged the extent of this, but every week, I read or watch an injustice via either my indigenous gender class or my politics class. Every day, there is something terrible happening in the world, and I learn about these things in the middle of the night, in between my sleep cycles, and I absorb and internalise them, and it weighs so heavy on me, and then I project it on everyone else.

As I type this, I can feel my tears building up, and I don't know what to do. I allow myself to cry, I've never been the type to stop myself from crying, but I really don't know how to do this longer than the absolute shortest period of time I have to. I don't think I can cope with the dual timezones for another semester, so I'll defer it if my visa doesn't get approved by then.