Do you ever sometimes feel like time’s moving faster than it used to? I mean to blog in the evening, but then it turns to the next morning in a blink and then the following evening and potentially even a weekend, they pass and pass on and pass us both by, leaving me not well enough acquainted with the past to long for it’s return yet very apprehensive about the future and completely in denial about the present, I think this manifests itself in the way i’m unable to walk in a straight line. That’s the only logical deduction. No matter how many times i mutter to myself: ‘one. foot. in. front. of. another.’ I always end up veering left and right haphazardly bumping into people, apologising almost immediately and feeling guilty about the lack of sincerity in it.
My room was inspected again over the winter break, it’s very unnerving to know someone who wasn’t me was in my room without my knowledge, looking to see whether or not it was in ‘satisfactory’ condition. I mean, I left pants on the radiator. You know, it isn’t even this that bothers me, it’s the fact that I have no say in it. I have no say in what condition my room’s inspected, the only difference between me telling you that I had pants on my radiator now and that person walking in to find pants on my radiator is the fact that I chose to put this out there.
Reading that over, I feel I’ve overreacted, I can appreciate they inspect the rooms to check things like whether or not there’s a clear path to the exits and whether or not the occupant’s obstructing the fire alarms in anyway opposed to whether or not they’ve left (the occu)pants from their last wash on the radiator. It just makes me feel a bit like a child, you know? Like when I was younger and my mum would come into my room after I went downstairs for breakfast to check if I’d made my bed. The idea that they keep a little mental checklist of things they should look for in my room really irks me, by this summer I won’t even be a teenager anymore, can you not trust me to make sure that I’m not causing detriment to my surroundings?
This is even more angst-y than my usual teenage spew, sorry kids.