Sunday, bloody sunday.
Today I woke up very, very early. Went to the restroom and then came back to my bed. It was raining outside, and inside my head as well.
I know I got this low feeling every sunday, no matter what. It's an useless day full of overthinking and wonders that distract me from my duties. Those lesson plans won't be done by themselves.
I'm tired of being a teacher. I'm tired of my bad decisions. Now I know that even though I spent 5 memorable years at Uni many friends I made there are gone and there's pretty much nothing left from that time. Hopes are already broken. This generation has no comeback, I feel I can't do any significant contribution from my position. It was a nice dream, but I'm loosing myself on it.
A part of me wants to reconnect with the lost musician. If I studied music I'd probably earned less cash but the fullfilment bro... that's just priceless.
Another part of me wants to be recognized as a linguist or writer. Anything that's sort of related with communication fits me well. I've even thought of some radio talking... I could see myself doing something like that.
But here I am.
An unknown. A underrated teacher like many others. My most meanigful reward these days is not getting anxious when getting home. That's the mediocrity of my life.
I haven't visited the doc yet... for sure (s)he'll ask why the hell I picked up this profession. I'd like to start some pills treatment but got no time for it.
I wonder how some people I know have survived after these stages of life.
A friend of mine said she'd recommend me for a different job in her town. I'm thinking of if.
Kind of wanna cry again.
And there are 3 months ahead of this living hell yet.
