Meals are the worst.

I can no longer force myself to small talk.

I can't sit through the deafening volume of the television.

I can't stand that I am faulted for finishing my meal before they finish it.

I can't stand the commentary on the deficiencies of the food on the table.

I can't stand how they don't wash their hands and how they take offense when they're reminded of that.

I can't stand how much food go to waste because of spillage and how they easily decide to throw things away.

I can't stand that I am no longer finding joy in simple things like meals.

I am too far gone.

It's not working out

It’s not working out.

It has been half-a-year —work from home.


Many love it but for me it has proven to be tiresome and unproductive.


Some say Zoom meetings prove that we actually don’t need office spaces anymore.


But I’ve been on the average been spending at least 3hrs a day in Zoom and I feel that it is almost all that I’ve been doing.


I  join calls. In between I process the downloaded information that came from the conversations. In between that I take care of the household chores that has to be done since I’m taking care of my parents both elderly and both increasingly becoming dependent on my capacity to be mobile.


I can’t even begin to tell the whole gamut of anxiety that this lockdown has opened up. Not to mention the whole range of experiences that I’ve gone through in the past 6 months.


Generally I just feel tired. Physically. But in spite of that I often find myself having difficulty sleeping. And when I do finally start to fall into a deep sleep I am woken up by someone calling my name to ask me to do something for them. Or the loud volume of the television. Or the dogs barking. Or an item in my to-do list somehow finds itself in my dreams and I am jolted back into the living dead that is my life.


My life that sucks. My life made more miserable by this curveball of a pandemic and this hellhole of a country ran by thieves and murderers. 


It’s just not working out.