Last week, I'd been living the life of a bum, a think. Each day I would wake up very late, like 10 a.m. (or wake up early, then sleep again), have a late and hurried breakfast, go to classes and preceptorials, have a very late lunch out, watch a little TV, have dinner out (or take-out food), read a little, surf the internet for a long time, and then finally, sleep very late.
I didn't like it, even while I was living every day of it. I've always had difficulties in waking up early but in the rare days that I did, I know I'd loved the feeling. There really is something about seeing the world wake up with you, something much beautiful and refreshing (oh refreshing, definitely!) than, say, seeing it wake up just as you're about to sleep. And so I told myself, next week will be better.
And I'm happy to say that, indeed, it is. Well, 630 or 7 a.m. isn't very early still, but that already is an improvement, I think. :) Today, for example, I woke up at 7 a.m. (630 really, but I fell asleep again, hihi), read the online version of The Inquirer, had my Sacred Space (try it online, sacredspace.ie), and finally, had breakfast, which I prepared myself! :D I've been cooking for myself this week, too. Of course my food is not as fancy or even as tasty as anything my dorm mates would prepare (at least 3 of them are good cooks), but I like the feeling. I've been telling myself I should learn how to cook so I wouldn't starve. Hihi. :) Helping ourselves feel good about our own selves should always be on our everyday to-do list.
The picture on the right is of Mycroft, one of my plants. It's a relatively old picture (about 1 month); the shoot is now a very long stem. I love this picture, as it reminds me of birth and new beginnings.My roommate, Jaymee, arrived from her duty in the hospital a few minutes ago (she has to go back a little later). She told me that my Neuro patient, whose case I'll be trying to discuss for my oral exam this Saturday, passed away yesterday. It really was only a matter of when. It's just saddening to imagine that perhaps at least one of his children didn't get to see him before he died... That's life, however. I mean, death is part of one's life, the last part of it perhaps. It doesn't get any easier to think of it this way, but it's the truth, I think. The Departed need not worry though. We're still here to celebrate their lives. :)
