I’m going to cook today, yes I am. Came home laden with groceries and there was a no-tax-day at Zehr’s. Oh joy, oh serendipity, oh blasted, blasted Canada. Department stores depress me (I’m looking at you Walmart, Zellers, Lulu fucking Hypermarket). Lots of things depress me. The majority of people depress me, or it’s just meh indifference. Nothing depresses the boyfriend at all. He is strange that way. What is there to be depressed about, he asks. And I don’t have an answer. If you put it that way, what indeed. Instead I retreat and feel stupid and a little melodramatic. It’s the chemicals in my brain, I say. And there are so many things in the world that are terrifically hideous, it’s almost not worth it to wake up in the morning- as Anushka says sometimes, when she gets into these states. “But the world is pretty”, he says. And so it is, and maybe he’s right.
A woman gave me her transfer today as I was waiting at the bus stop, weighed down with about four bulging bags of groceries. Maybe it was my face, or maybe it was the day, or maybe she was really nice. I didn’t need it though- I have my Watcard. But it saved me taking it out. A girl I used to know in first year apparently used to talk about me all the time, according to her best friend whom I met in class the other day. I was surprised- but in a slow oh-really way. In fact, “Oh really?”, is how I responded, arching my eyebrows. I don’t see why she’d talk about me. We weren’t close, I didn’t even really know her. There was this one thing with her boyfriend and a text, but it’s all foolishness, and he wasn’t even cute, and I didn’t even care- and. It just goes to show, most of the things we obsess about and worry over and spend all our energy on are in our heads. NOBODY FUCKING CARES, PEOPLE. THEY’RE NOT THINKING ABOUT YOU. They’re thinking about themselves. Like me.
I’m waiting for the kheema to thaw, then I’ll cook it. I’m trying to have a productive day today, let’s see how it goes. The boyfriend is too casual for my good. He says ” I love you”, “I miss you”, like he’s telling me 10+10=20. On being told this, he says, “Well, it’s that self evident.” Is it really? To me it’s not. I can’t make him understand that 90% of the time I feel unloved, unwanted, ungood. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe I’ll get more chilled out, and start thinking that I am awesome, of course he’s mad about me, he’d be crazy really, not to be. But things need to be said sometimes.