…just woke up from a nightmare when I’m trying to go to bed, and I doubt I’ll get any sleep soon.
Yes, this is another one of those my-parents-are-angry-at-me-because-I’m-not-doing-enough-work sort of nightmare. It’s my mum this time, being angry-upset-worried-disappointed because I’m being lazy and not doing enough work. She was hitting me too. It was very realistic, and very her, which is odd because I’m never able to imagine people that well. I remember being very upset about it, and trying to protest that I HAVE been doing work, just ask anybody who lives around here. The only reason I didn’t wake up crying was because I woke up soon enough; I was on the brink of tears.
Like my flatmate said through giggles, it’s such an Asian nightmare - dreaming that your parents hate you because you’re not doing enough work. I had a similar nightmare from which I woke up crying about two months ago, except that time, it was my dad. These nightmares are incredibly odd because my parents are pretty nonchalant when it comes to work and grades and achievements (sometimes I wish they were pushier). But then again, both those times I’ve been stressed out about work, and have been beating myself up about not doing enough or being good enough, so maybe my parents are the manifestations of something in my psyche that wants to physically beat myself up in my dreams? Which I find pretty hilarious (also slightly creepy), if not for the fact that I’ll probably not be able to sleep for a while and it’s already 6am here.
Hanging out with Malaysians into hip-hop, R&B, and dance music for a couple of days means:
I’ve chameleoned their accents and manner of speech for so long that when I came back and started speaking to other Malaysians in Manglish, they are terrified. (I don’t normally speak Manglish, even in my head.) I’m just waiting for a moment where I’d accidentally throw in a Malay phrase when I’m speaking to non-Malaysians. That would be confusing, and hilarious.
I’ve got Sweet Nothing, Britney Bitch, No Church in the Wild, Gold Dust (among others) stuck in my head now.
It’ll take a while to wash London off me. The company, the experience, the accents, the new people, the potential, was exquisite.
1. Mei Yen gets bored. 2. Mei Yen has to go out to buy Chinese tea. 3. Mei Yen thinks walking is boring (as she usually does) 4. Whenever Mei Yen gets bored, she thinks of a different way to do things to challenge herself 5. Mei Yen has Family Law stuff she ought to read 6. Ergo, Mei Yen decides to walk to the Korean/Japanese shop while reading her family case law (having perfected the art of walking while reading when she was five years old) 7. It just turned dark then, which made it even more fun, because Mei Yen has to use the torchlight app on her phone to do that.
*Mei Yen thought people might judge her for doing this, but remembered it’s the Winter Break and the only people around now are Asians, and they’d understand. *but no - of course her Malaysian friends have to bump into her and go ‘Mei Yen don’t study la you’re making us scared ok’. Malaysians are a notoriously lazy breed of Asians - I’d know, because I’m one hohoho. *she also bought allllll the instant noodles that proclaim they’re spicy, just so she could eat them at home and go ‘you all are liars.’
Got to this stage of essay-writing where I just Don’t Care Anymore - I’ve somehow shut down the critical, self-loathing part of my head and accessed the creative, whimsical bit, so everything is very exciting ;)
Ta for now - lovely, essay-free day tomorrow with lovely dim sum and lovely, lovely people who’ve been trying their best to support me through the avalanche of work this week x
Phew, we’ve got so much work this week I’m actually surprised that I haven’t started being too upset about it. Maybe that particular well dried up with the jurisprudential burnout on Sunday, and we law students have got to this stage where we’ve got so much work we skipped straight to laughing about how absurd it is - a much healthier way to deal with stress, probably. I’m chinning up, taking everything in stride and doing the best I can given the time. I suppose all the stress and anxiety and self-loathing and being too unhappy to put on shoes could easily be avoided if I don’t give a fuck, but I do care - because I like work, I like being pushed, and I like this academic environment for which I ought to be grateful for.
I’m taking a break from my Family Law readings now, since we need to leave the kitchen when the cleaner is cleaning (that’s where I normally study), and I’m taking the chance to pick up one of the Hitchhiker books I got on Saturday. Nerdy banter on facebook led me to this documentary:
'While still in school he began to show signs of what is to becoming his lifelong struggle to meet datelines'
Douglas Adams is so my spirit animal - the patron saint of all who care too much about writing. Much loved <3