Last night began my obsession with myself, once again, when I checked my weight. It was (is) less than 50 kg, the weight a teenage boy will be happy to brag about. I freaked out. Also, last evening I thought I kicked the butt (not speaking metaphorically) of my cigarette, believing it would be my last stub until the weekend. Foot in mouth. Turns out, my body calls for nicotine. I never want to quit, but I want to be in control of myself. Kick in my own butt (again, not speaking metaphorically).
I got up in the morning and prepared myself a healthy breakfast. A very healthy one. My roommate saw that with gleaming eyes and begged if she could take to work the sandwich I had made, because she was running late. I had an idea she would do that, so I made some noise, but then gave in. Also, I had hidden some more cut tomatoes and potatoes, with which I made myself another sandwich. Here’s my feat:
Half the sandwich is eaten. I was very hungry. Looks much better than a cigarette and tea for breakfast 😀 Look what I have created! I have made breakfast! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vP2P8mhif-g
After that I started thinking about how five days ago my dad sent me a facebook friend request, and how I was losing sleep over that. In the beginning I was mad as to why my dad needed to be so technologically advanced now, but then later I started feeling guilty. I started thinking of his effort of going to create an account on Facebook to add his daughter and son. Our only common friend is my brother, and I have not yet accepted his friend request. Because wisdom prevailed, and I remembered how my dad is like the Puss in the Boots character from Shrek – using emotional drama to entrap me, and then wielding his true self, to slay me to the bits. He has the mind of a politician, and the heart of a child. But that does not make him cool, because he is a very conservative person. I am not going to accept his friend request. I love you to the bits dad, and so I will not accept your friend request. I just called him up and talked to him and mom.
Later, under the pretext of returning the Zippo lighter I had bought a couple days ago, which would not work, I went to buy cigarettes. He said I needed to refuel it, and asked me for my ID. Damn! I told him I always bought cigarettes from him, but he thought I was lying, and said that he had never seen me before. My determination made me go back and get my ID. I don’t take it as a compliment when someone thinks that my age is less than 21. It makes me feel that I look like a silly teenager. And the fact that I cannot convince them that I am way past the age of 21 makes me feel that I even look immature. I sometimes feel like showing them my greys, which I have not yet learned to not hide.
I came back home, and refueled and cleaned my Zippo lighter. The lighter wheel is kind of jammed too, and so I put some oil to loosen it up, but that caused the lighter to not light up properly. I will give it a rest. I do not want to part with it yet, because it is cool metallic blue in colour, and has my favourite sign, that of peace, on it.
One finds ways to be happy, and reasons to be sad. My reasons to be sad are worth it, and I will find ways to be happy. Hell yeah! :p