Today I got up late, about 11 a.m.
Compared to some of my other friends, that’s pretty early. But then again, we are in college.
I washed my car and spent two hours on it.
I felt like I was breaking my back as the sweat dribbled down my forehead,
But the satisfaction of seeing my car clean, top to bottom, for the first time in months was worth it.
It was time for lunch but I didn’t eat.
I’m on a diet anyway and I have things to do, so I skipped it.
“Just drink water,” my mind said. It filled me and I felt better.
“On to the next task.”
I started my philosophy essay. I love and hate it.
Philosophy makes me think but these days it’s hard to think. It’s hard to do anything except breathe, but then again, even that’s hard.
Get out of the car? Wear a mask. Going to work? Wear a mask. Visiting family? Wear a mask.
It puts up a barrier for ours and others’ safety but it also puts up a barrier between our connection to the world.
I write for an hour and then I can’t think anymore. Just 900 more words and it’s over. Divide that into three paragraphs and it’s complete. I can do three paragraphs.
“Time to stand.” My watch says. I shut off my laptop and take a walk through the house.
The dishes aren’t done, the laundry needs to be finished, and the bathrooms need cleaning.
My parents are away but instead of having a party or even having a guy over for a good time, I clean. It’s not like either of those could happen during a time like this anyway.
I clean to clear my mind and I clean to hold control. There is no control over anything anymore so maybe by cleaning my car and washing these dishes and folding this laundry and polishing the bathrooms, just maybe, I can hold on still.
I finally eat.
“Don’t forget to input it into your calorie tracker.”
You can’t lose control again, not like last time where the binge eating was every day. Not again.
You can do better this time, you can do it.
My parents come home and we watch a movie that I can’t even focus on because I’m thinking of next week already.
It’s almost finals, I can do this.
But I feel like a fraud, my professors have thankfully let up on us because of quarantine. Am I really earning this grade? Or am I just receiving it?
Who cares, summer is almost here.
I text my best friend, who I haven’t seen in a month.
“Are we good?”
It feels like every day I grow away from the people closest to me.
So now I sit on the edge of my bathtub and write because it makes me feel better.
I’ll watch Netflix in the tub and drink a cup of tea.
Today I did good. I got stuff done.
My muscles hurt but it’s a good pain, right?
Tomorrow I’ll visit family and paint on a bright face. I’ll talk about how grateful I am for my job at a time like this and how well my classes are going.
Then I will finally sleep and start all over again.
One day at a time.
Today, I did good.
Lindsey Pacela, a freshman journalism and psychology major, is a staff writer for the Campus Times. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Lindsey Pacela, a senior journalism and psychology major, has worked as the editor-in-chief of La Verne Magazine and news editor for the Campus Times. She is currently a staff photographer for both publications.