Time passes quickly like the hours that seem like moments that you get to sleep before a day you dread to wake up to. I sit alone in my apartment, nostalgic, remembering what it was like a year ago living with my parents while working at a preschool just as a summer job. I celebrated my one year anniversary with Eli, rejoiced at being 20 and I enjoyed spending time with my sisters. I celebrated my two year anniversary with Eli a few weeks ago, and I allowed the Fourth of July to pass me by without thanking God for my country and freedom. I worked that night, jealous of everyone who wasn't stuck inside, but laughing when the rain wouldn't stop. I watch the little kids with their parents, some cute, some really annoying that I wish I could smack. Sometimes when parents are polite enough to apologize for their screaming child who keeps spinning my wheel of bags around before I can put their groceries inside that I used to work at a preschool, and I understood. I don't understand though, I'm not in their shoes. I think that we try to empathize with people by the closest experience we have to that situation so that they feel like they're not the only ones, or maybe we do it so we feel we have experience. Truth is we don't know how to really empathize with people because every situation is different. Nothing truly happens twice because we're all different people.
Last night a friend told me to "quit technology" so I could write more. I'm considering it. I grabbed an orange composition notebook I bought 2 years ago to be my journal for french 1. I reread all the entries and laughed at how simple my grammar was, and at that time I was so proud of my 2 sentences per entry. They were entries like, "Je m'appelle Rachel. Je suis fatigue". Translation: My name is Rachel. I am tired. "Mon prof est tres stupid et gros." Translation: My teacher is very stupid and fat. During that semester, 2 years ago this fall, I was living in a dorm on campus and I had just met Jamie and Natasha. God really knew what He was doing by placing Jamie in my life. I was still a mass communications major and I was really happy with the way I looked. Though I didn't write about my life in this orange composition notebook, I felt it was appropriate to use because it's a diverse piece of material. For one, it's orange. Secondly, the first 10 pages are just little sentences I put together for a french journal and its funny. Lastly, I hate wasting paper and I've never filled out an entire notebook before.
I like writing online, it's alot faster for me to write, but I think that having a notebook to carry around with me would not only be good in the case that I became inspired and just happened to have it at hand, I think it would make me look artsy and intellectual if I walked around constantly with something to write with. Isn't it funny how much we care about appearance?
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