This is been a day which I reget that I ever became associated with myself. I have been grumpy, moody, frusterated, irritable, and even destructive. One glass bottle lost its life on our kitchen floor this morning. After matters reached their worst, I went for a walk. I'm not sure what good it would do. I have more privacy inside my small one-room apartment with my husband and son than I do outside the walls of my home. There is absolutely no place where I can go and have a private moment, especially on a weekend. I live right next to the city hall, the city's largest theater, two large parks, and the two largest department stores. Thus the moment I step out of my door, I am met by swarms of people, people, people. The bookstore is packed--hardly standing room, much less a seat. When I cross my street, 500 loud teenagers heading to the movies are crossing with me. Okay, so maybe it's not quite 500, but it's a lot. Adults are fairly circumspect about staring me, but younger one are not.
This is why I have become a hermit lately. Usually, I only feel like going out when I need to refresh myself. But when I need to refresh myself, I do not need to feel dozens of eyes watching every move I make. Today I really needed to cry but I had no where to go and cry privately. My husband and I weren't having the smoothest day ever. So I went out. But the cafes are full of people, the streets, the parks, the stores, every nook and cranny is full of people and a good number of them are watching me. I'm not one to feel comfortable walking around disheveled and bawling in public. Sigh.
So I cried discreetly for a while on the back steps of a bank and then ended up sitting in the hallway outside the door to my apartment. The hallway was the quietest place I could find.
I can see how much God has changed me in the last few years but there is still so much work to do. I'm not that patient. Just ask my parents. I was never a child known for her patience. But I need to keep putting up with myself and going forward. Even in my marriage. Even in my studies. Even in my mothering.
And to make matters worse, I wish I could indulge in something like a quart of ice cream, or chocolate, or a triple macchiato. And I could, but there is nothing that I crave. Nothing. I have no desire to eat anything or drink anything other than tofu and water. Yes, I just ate plain, cold, uncooked chunks of tofu for dinner while my husband and son take a nap. What's wrong with me? I have several bars of chocolate in this house but no desire to eat them.