I arrived in Hong Kong on Thursday morning.
While normally, I leap at the chance to be in Asia, I will tell you that I am elbows deep in an abnormally sucky trip to Asia. The schedule is brutal; the meetings keep getting moved around; the weather is not nice; the people have been unpleasant; and the vast majority of the ex-pat friends I’d ordinarily see are coincidentally in New York or otherwise outside of Asia.
Basically everything is just kind-of wrong. Not catastrophically wrong, more irritatingly wrong. And I am in a place in my life where I somehow think I have some kind of control over this kind of stuff, so I am blaming myself for it.
Oh man, sometimes I think I just suck at this.
What I realised is, I don’t even know what this is…
Cool it, Mouse, you are such a drama queen.
That’s my internal monologue talking. In my internal monologue, I call myself “Mouse.” I have since I was a tiny mouselet. I have absolutely no explanation for this.
Some days, lately, I just feel so…abnormal. Like everything about me is wrong, and everything I am doing is wrong, and all of the thoughts and feelings I am having are simply not fit for human consumption. Like if I were to share that I am so tired and wound-up about everything going on that I simply cannot control, people would be so horrified by what I think and feel, they would cast me out of polite society to spend my days in ignominy.
For instance, I’ve lately been so wound up that I have developed a furious aversion to shaved-off, penciled-in eyebrows. These brows make me absolutely furious for no reason whatsoever.
What is really going on is that there is a whole lot of stuff happening in my life that is overwhelming and that I cannot control, so I’ve focused my anger on something utterly irrational and uncontrollable. It’s something safe, and futile, and I can just be mad, without fear of judgment. Except for maybe the judgment of people with penciled-in brows, but given my irrational ire, I don’t really care about them right now.
You see, it’s not safe to be mad at the things the actually matter — because they are consequential, and for the moment, I can’t really do anything about them.
It is, however, safe to be mad about…eyebrows.
(via College Humor)