Ad infinitum

1.

Not this one. Damn it, why can't it just be the right one?

I try to reach the other key and I really struggle but the left hand is already numb from carrying the groceries up to the fifth floor. Obviously I have to scratch my fingers and the metal ring punctures my skin as I shuffle the keys on the keychain to get to the one that, hopefully, will be the good one.

Finally.

The key turns. Damnit. Throw the bag on the floor, just force yourself out of that jacket and run to the bathroom. Jesus, I just cleaned the floors! I'd rather leave dirt marks than spill my guts all over the place though, so forget about taking off the shoes, no time for that. I grab at the door, push it out of the way and throw myself over the toilet.

Ain't pretty.

I'm done. I am so freaking done. I am done not sleeping, I am done putting all this shit before everything else. What for? Just so they can glance at it, if even, and then just ignore it completely. I work my brains out, I force myself to think when all I need is to close my eyes and drift off. I haven't had a proper meal in what, months? Stupid chocolate and crackers and biscuits and candies, as much sugar as possible to keep me going. And who has the time for cooking anyway? If there's even one minute free I just freeze. I block. I panic.

My forehead turns into a wall of water and as I reach behind my neck, I can feel the hair all tangled up from the scarf that still hangs onto me, most of it all over the floor.

Wonderful. It's just wonderful. Now I'm sick too.

I force myself on my knees and, trying not to fall down again, I reach to flush the toilet. Luckily, I still have some of those cleaning wipes, I can't leave this mess. I lean on the shower cabin and push myself up. The room is spinning but not as hard as before. I won't even look in the mirror. I've seen enough already.

I turn on the faucet, leave it running so the water warms up and then splash it right into my face. I grab the sink with both hands, dizzy, tired, exhausted actually. I want to tell myself that I haven't felt like this in a long time but I know that's not true. I'm always like this. This crazy way of living just gnaws at my health and bite by bite, it gets to me. I've been almost waiting for this. For the day I would be done. For the day I would collapse. I turn off the water, dry my face, gather up my hair, the tangled bundle still pulling at my neck and tie it up in a bun.

I go get the bag from the entrance door, take it to the kitchen and start putting stuff in place. It's not much, everything's expensive now. With my shitty salary I can barely make it through the month. Even the damned vegetables are as expensive as gold now. Everything is "BIO" and made with fairy dust, no more normal vegetables for us, peasants, who can't afford the fancy ones.

I turn on the stove and put on the skillet I inherited from my grandma. This thing takes a while to get hot but man, I wouldn't trade it for the modern ones, not in a million years. I take two slices of bread, spread the margarine and throw a slice of cheese in-between. Put that in the hot skillet and let it warm up. Throw those veggie in the fridge and sit on one of those pliable wooden chairs you get at a low price at Ikea. I let myself breathe for a second, give my heart some time to calm down and get back on track.

I can feel the pain in my back like a knife constantly swaying and dancing between my vertebrae. It's hard to stand up again but here I go.

I get some water for the tea and put it on the stove next to the skillet, to boil. This tea is some weird concoction found at the store two weeks ago. It tastes like paper, old cherries and hay. I didn't get to go buy another and I am too tired to be pretentious right now. I get another cup of water to clean the nasty taste left in my mouth from that beautiful experience from a few minutes ago.

Turn off the gas, pour water in the cup, take the sandwich, grab a plate, take cup and head to the couch.

Sigh.

At least this one is comfortable enough and has mercy on my bones.

I cross my legs and place the cup between them so it won't spill over while I grab for the laptop to turn Netflix on.

Friends.

I don't even know how many times I've watched this but every time I do, it still feels like the first time.

I envy them so much.

I brush away at the melted cheese strings that landed on my chin and take a big gulp of the hot tea. Yuck. At least it's hot.

I smile the saddest of smiles while I sing along the intro song.

I envy them so much.

In the dark room, on a couch, with just a sandwich in my hand and a cup of tea between my legs, I have only the screen lighting my face while I laugh at Joey's childish behavior and get tears in the corner of my eyes when Chandler and Monica say "I love you".

I finished my sandwich, the tea is cold and the episode is over. I push the laptop away and try to stand but all the pains that seemed to be dormant while I sat, now come in waves. I drag myself closer to the edge and make my left hand a fist, pushing myself up. My birth certificate may say an age but I swear it must be fake, it's at least 30 years younger than how I feel.

I take the cup to the kitchen and leave it in the sink. I don't have much energy left in me and I'm not going to waste it on doing the dishes. I put the bread in the bag and seal the plastic bag. The cheese goes in the fridge next to the veggies. I turn off the light and go to the bedroom.

I take off my socks, pants, blouse and throw on the pajamas that aren't even pajamas but some old t-shirt and shorts. I go brush my teeth and try to untangle the bird's nest at the back of my head. It's impossible, so I'll just wash it out tomorrow morning. Hah, morning... I still use that word, even though I can't remember when was the last time I woke up at what normal people call morning hours. I pull my hair back in a bun and turn off the light.

I set the alarm.

Under the covers, I forget my sickness, I forget my pains, I close my eyes and let dreams take me away.

The alarm goes off. 

It's another day.