Washington Capitals Red
Once fooled, thrice blinded. I went to turn on my bedside wall lamp button to get settled before hunkering into bed and turn off the main lights. BOOM. All of a sudden the right light bulb was lit right in my face. I hit the button a second time. This time only the left bulb was lit. On the third attempt they both light up blinding me. With the final click the turn off completely and you can finally shut you eyes for sleep and have two light bulbs burned brightly into the back of your lids.
Hotel rooms are a weird thing. You pay a lot of money to be away from home and 99.99% of the time they are not worth it. I can think of two rooms I have ever truly enjoyed staying in (Tamba Del Awesome and The Homestead). I have primarily stayed at Marriott hotels throughout my career. Before going to bed I looked between my toes at the one inch yellow tiled floor that adorns the bathroom, then behind the toilet at the bright red wall. Washington Capitals Red I thought. But this is actually just the color scheme of Courtyard Marriotts. I am not surprised it was founded by men. I can only imagine three possible scenarios for the hotel designer team to choose this color scheme. 1) Colorblindness. 2) A conversation that went "give me your cheapest paints and tiles that no one bought. 3) A BBQ between the founders where they discussed their extreme love of condiments and how they would feel most at home within a ketchup bottle. But as the Washington Capitals won the hockey Stanley Cup last night so I pretend its Capitals Red despite it's cherry undertones.
I have been having a rough time lately due to a variety of things. Mostly work is lonely and exhausting. To deal with the loneliness I have been eating, but you know what any skinny girl hates? It's feeling fat. So while I was at home teaching for a week with my mom, dad, and sister out of town I abnormally got lonely at home too. To combat this I turned to my thousands of friends. Why be lonely when you can shovel down fistfuls of morosely friends in the form of chocolate chips. Throughout the week I would get my grubby paws on loads of those fuckers. I couldn't stop. And why would I? I had mostly taken a vow of silence for the week observing quietly in the background a new instructor teaching the virtual class. I was just listening in to make sure she didn't f it up. To combat my eating through every possible feeling I got out my sisters foot massager. It is an intensely uncomfortable massager that is so painful I added several pads around the knobs that kneaded to reduce how hard they pushed into my skin. I did this for two days straight because this particular massager grips your legs so you can't move and go to the kitchen pantry to eat more calorie pills.
So the result of this foot torture chamber was actually the exact opposite of me losing the five pounds I had recently packed on. Instead it caused tendinitis and gave me two swollen darkly bruised feet prohibiting me from running. The first few days I taped my feet and tool a Tylenol so I could still run, but then I felt this may actually harm me in the long run and so I have been resting them. All of these thoughts swirl through my head as the light bulbs diffuse from my lids. I think to myself that I was now literally crippled by loneliness.
I do have a boyfriend, but even that doesn't help. In fact it sometimes makes things worse. We are long distance and I love him very much. He is sweet and wonderful but with a country in between us those warm fuzzy feelings have a long way to travel. It is hard. And you may think should I get into a long distance relationship? You want my opinion? Short answer: No. Long answer: Nooooooooooooooooo. But aren't they worth it you may follow up? Yes but not yet. Yes he is worth it. But not at first. You gotta get out before you love them, because then you're just fucked. I remember sitting on his sofa and was snuggled up under his arms and the first time in ages I thought wow I am in like with someone. But if we had just ended it there I would have gotten over it eventually. He would have too. Clearly I am a hopeless romantic because while we would have moved on, I would always look back on that moment and been happy it happened.
And I have been happy with him, but again it has been a rough several months. It is not a person, it is just a situation. I have been traveling non-stop for months. And I have always hated traveling full time for work. And when I do get to have a period of time at home, maybe a week, I go to spend it with my boyfriend in California so we don't just fizzle out but the cost is exhaustion. So I spend my time with him and I feel elated and remember why I love being with him so much. But then the rug is pulled out from beneath me and I'm left alone in a hotel room with light bulbs burned into my lids critiquing color choices wondering if this is all normal.
I am not and have not ever been normal. I have anxiety and probably depression. And I know celebrities are always hailed as brave when they admit they have anxiety. I don't see what the big deal is to admit it. I openly feel like I have a hive of bees that live in my head. These bees buzz non-stop. There is no silence in my head, perhaps to make up somewhat for the silence I am always surrounded by in my day to day work life. But they buzz all the time and it makes it very difficult to relax. I was OCD as a child. Not the omg I need to clean type, but the omg if I don't touch every window before I go to bed I wouldn't sleep for an entire night because I would be too gripped with fear. And my boyfriend is so relaxed. But if it was up to him I don't think we would have broken up, but we wouldn't be moving forward. Bees in a hive on a smoke break. There is a queen who sits there and then workers endlessly running their dance, gathering pollen, shaking this asses to make a living. The queen soaks up all the glory, not because she is a useless little c*nt bug, but because that is her role. She is chill. I am not. I am the worker bee. If I feel confused by a situation I go into attack mode. Not because I am a giant misanthrope (maybe I am the more I get to know people) but because I don't know what else to do in the situation. Figure out how to control it instead of waiting. I attack in a way to protect myself. But I end up coming off like an African bee hive instead of the friendlier bee race of Italians. I want to be the easy going bee hive, the Italians who take afternoon smoke breaks (bee pun) instead of the African bee hive where if you walk by them they just fucking attack. And I have attacked my smoked out little Italian queen bee boyfriend lately because I am like I have to make all this damn honey and he can just sit there and relax. And while it is not the case, it is just hard when you have different ideas of when winter will be here.
There are a few times when the bees have gone. Sometimes when I run I can go just a little bit faster than them. They catch up, but for a while they are gone and it is peaceful. But more and more often these past few months they have been on pace with me. There are other times when I have just been relaxed due to a perfect calm that washes over me. Sometimes for months on end. I have an idea of what these triggers may be but then again, maybe it was just the right balance of hormones. It is generally when I am with the people I love and not working. Go figure, vacations, but not staying in funky hotels designed by condiment enthusiasts. I am the first person to admit when I am not worried about work and with people I love I am happy. I am also happy when I am alone but not lonely. Those times can be glorious.
This job is getting to me. Sitting in hotels are getting to me. I can't imagine actually paying to sleep in a ketchup bottle. I laid in my bed that night and finally tried to sleep. My foot started to hurt again, my dreams were stressful, and I awoke tired. Sometimes in life you just have to hobble onward. Sitting in the ugliest possible room to still charge over $200 per night I am probably around other people feeling the same way. But maybe not. Instead of wondering I look at the room. The unassuming gross red that hearkens back to trend of the moment a decade ago of 'accent walls.' All of a sudden the terrible light design that blinds you makes more sense. It's saying stop looking around at what is wrong. Blind yourself to it. Go the fuck to sleep.
So I did. And today I hobble on. And when I get a text from my boyfriend in the morning, I smile about my little Italian bee.
Related side note: There are different races of honey bees. Bee keepers keep different races for different purposes. After my dad told me there are different races of bees and a bit about their personalities I read on
https://www.perfectbee.com/learn-about-bees/the-science-of-bees/common-races-of-honey-bee/ to get some information. Below is a synopsis but credit goes to the website above.
Italian bees: gentle little honey producers, not good in colder climates ( I see images of my boyfriend wearing his light jackets on our trips to Chicago and freezing cold because he needs a legit winter coat). Italian bees don't have a great sense of direction and may drift from colony to colony robbing food where they can. I think of my little bee coming home from work with all the left overs "Yea its from our luncheon last week, this was just left in the fridge!" He says excitedly. Italian bees keep neat hives. Well that's not entirely accurate but maybe he is a hybrid.
Africanized honey bees are known for being highly aggressive and will chase a person up to a quarter of a mile if they perceive a threat. Yep. I identify as an African bee. They produce more honey and reproduce faster than other bees. To me this just sounds like they are extremely efficient even if it drives everyone else away...Nevermind.
Hotel rooms are a weird thing. You pay a lot of money to be away from home and 99.99% of the time they are not worth it. I can think of two rooms I have ever truly enjoyed staying in (Tamba Del Awesome and The Homestead). I have primarily stayed at Marriott hotels throughout my career. Before going to bed I looked between my toes at the one inch yellow tiled floor that adorns the bathroom, then behind the toilet at the bright red wall. Washington Capitals Red I thought. But this is actually just the color scheme of Courtyard Marriotts. I am not surprised it was founded by men. I can only imagine three possible scenarios for the hotel designer team to choose this color scheme. 1) Colorblindness. 2) A conversation that went "give me your cheapest paints and tiles that no one bought. 3) A BBQ between the founders where they discussed their extreme love of condiments and how they would feel most at home within a ketchup bottle. But as the Washington Capitals won the hockey Stanley Cup last night so I pretend its Capitals Red despite it's cherry undertones.
I have been having a rough time lately due to a variety of things. Mostly work is lonely and exhausting. To deal with the loneliness I have been eating, but you know what any skinny girl hates? It's feeling fat. So while I was at home teaching for a week with my mom, dad, and sister out of town I abnormally got lonely at home too. To combat this I turned to my thousands of friends. Why be lonely when you can shovel down fistfuls of morosely friends in the form of chocolate chips. Throughout the week I would get my grubby paws on loads of those fuckers. I couldn't stop. And why would I? I had mostly taken a vow of silence for the week observing quietly in the background a new instructor teaching the virtual class. I was just listening in to make sure she didn't f it up. To combat my eating through every possible feeling I got out my sisters foot massager. It is an intensely uncomfortable massager that is so painful I added several pads around the knobs that kneaded to reduce how hard they pushed into my skin. I did this for two days straight because this particular massager grips your legs so you can't move and go to the kitchen pantry to eat more calorie pills.
So the result of this foot torture chamber was actually the exact opposite of me losing the five pounds I had recently packed on. Instead it caused tendinitis and gave me two swollen darkly bruised feet prohibiting me from running. The first few days I taped my feet and tool a Tylenol so I could still run, but then I felt this may actually harm me in the long run and so I have been resting them. All of these thoughts swirl through my head as the light bulbs diffuse from my lids. I think to myself that I was now literally crippled by loneliness.
I do have a boyfriend, but even that doesn't help. In fact it sometimes makes things worse. We are long distance and I love him very much. He is sweet and wonderful but with a country in between us those warm fuzzy feelings have a long way to travel. It is hard. And you may think should I get into a long distance relationship? You want my opinion? Short answer: No. Long answer: Nooooooooooooooooo. But aren't they worth it you may follow up? Yes but not yet. Yes he is worth it. But not at first. You gotta get out before you love them, because then you're just fucked. I remember sitting on his sofa and was snuggled up under his arms and the first time in ages I thought wow I am in like with someone. But if we had just ended it there I would have gotten over it eventually. He would have too. Clearly I am a hopeless romantic because while we would have moved on, I would always look back on that moment and been happy it happened.
And I have been happy with him, but again it has been a rough several months. It is not a person, it is just a situation. I have been traveling non-stop for months. And I have always hated traveling full time for work. And when I do get to have a period of time at home, maybe a week, I go to spend it with my boyfriend in California so we don't just fizzle out but the cost is exhaustion. So I spend my time with him and I feel elated and remember why I love being with him so much. But then the rug is pulled out from beneath me and I'm left alone in a hotel room with light bulbs burned into my lids critiquing color choices wondering if this is all normal.
I am not and have not ever been normal. I have anxiety and probably depression. And I know celebrities are always hailed as brave when they admit they have anxiety. I don't see what the big deal is to admit it. I openly feel like I have a hive of bees that live in my head. These bees buzz non-stop. There is no silence in my head, perhaps to make up somewhat for the silence I am always surrounded by in my day to day work life. But they buzz all the time and it makes it very difficult to relax. I was OCD as a child. Not the omg I need to clean type, but the omg if I don't touch every window before I go to bed I wouldn't sleep for an entire night because I would be too gripped with fear. And my boyfriend is so relaxed. But if it was up to him I don't think we would have broken up, but we wouldn't be moving forward. Bees in a hive on a smoke break. There is a queen who sits there and then workers endlessly running their dance, gathering pollen, shaking this asses to make a living. The queen soaks up all the glory, not because she is a useless little c*nt bug, but because that is her role. She is chill. I am not. I am the worker bee. If I feel confused by a situation I go into attack mode. Not because I am a giant misanthrope (maybe I am the more I get to know people) but because I don't know what else to do in the situation. Figure out how to control it instead of waiting. I attack in a way to protect myself. But I end up coming off like an African bee hive instead of the friendlier bee race of Italians. I want to be the easy going bee hive, the Italians who take afternoon smoke breaks (bee pun) instead of the African bee hive where if you walk by them they just fucking attack. And I have attacked my smoked out little Italian queen bee boyfriend lately because I am like I have to make all this damn honey and he can just sit there and relax. And while it is not the case, it is just hard when you have different ideas of when winter will be here.
There are a few times when the bees have gone. Sometimes when I run I can go just a little bit faster than them. They catch up, but for a while they are gone and it is peaceful. But more and more often these past few months they have been on pace with me. There are other times when I have just been relaxed due to a perfect calm that washes over me. Sometimes for months on end. I have an idea of what these triggers may be but then again, maybe it was just the right balance of hormones. It is generally when I am with the people I love and not working. Go figure, vacations, but not staying in funky hotels designed by condiment enthusiasts. I am the first person to admit when I am not worried about work and with people I love I am happy. I am also happy when I am alone but not lonely. Those times can be glorious.
This job is getting to me. Sitting in hotels are getting to me. I can't imagine actually paying to sleep in a ketchup bottle. I laid in my bed that night and finally tried to sleep. My foot started to hurt again, my dreams were stressful, and I awoke tired. Sometimes in life you just have to hobble onward. Sitting in the ugliest possible room to still charge over $200 per night I am probably around other people feeling the same way. But maybe not. Instead of wondering I look at the room. The unassuming gross red that hearkens back to trend of the moment a decade ago of 'accent walls.' All of a sudden the terrible light design that blinds you makes more sense. It's saying stop looking around at what is wrong. Blind yourself to it. Go the fuck to sleep.
So I did. And today I hobble on. And when I get a text from my boyfriend in the morning, I smile about my little Italian bee.
Related side note: There are different races of honey bees. Bee keepers keep different races for different purposes. After my dad told me there are different races of bees and a bit about their personalities I read on
https://www.perfectbee.com/learn-about-bees/the-science-of-bees/common-races-of-honey-bee/ to get some information. Below is a synopsis but credit goes to the website above.
Italian bees: gentle little honey producers, not good in colder climates ( I see images of my boyfriend wearing his light jackets on our trips to Chicago and freezing cold because he needs a legit winter coat). Italian bees don't have a great sense of direction and may drift from colony to colony robbing food where they can. I think of my little bee coming home from work with all the left overs "Yea its from our luncheon last week, this was just left in the fridge!" He says excitedly. Italian bees keep neat hives. Well that's not entirely accurate but maybe he is a hybrid.
Africanized honey bees are known for being highly aggressive and will chase a person up to a quarter of a mile if they perceive a threat. Yep. I identify as an African bee. They produce more honey and reproduce faster than other bees. To me this just sounds like they are extremely efficient even if it drives everyone else away...Nevermind.
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