Friday, August 26, 2022

Oh, The Guilt


It is raining. It is the middle of the summer. It is Friday. I'm about to pee. I'm about to log into a Zoom conference. I'm about to focus on a scientific paper. I'm about to fall asleep. I think I could do anything. I think I could do nothing. All Friday afternoons seem to be electrical. Even if it is not raining. Friday afternoon are noisy and relaxing. A paradox. This Friday afternoon in particular reminds me of all those Friday afternoons when I was in High school. This Friday afternoon makes me wonder why did I waste my time for several years. All I did was moan and cry, to think about girls, to write about girls, to feel guilty. 

Today I ran 5 km, I went to the university, I had two meetings with two pupils –I'm their advisor–, I gave my vote to a candidate in the Department of Health Sciences and then I spoke in a less formally way with another couple of students. I was listening to Pearl Jam and waiting for my Uber, when the first appeared out of nowhere and then asked me for an advice. Then the second one, appeared later and asked me if it is true that I will not longer continue in the university. She said she liked my classes.

I know I will get drunk in a few hours. I will forget everything and I'll feel guilty. And sick. And annoyed. And frustrated. 

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