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Tuesday, 15 January 2013

Correct me if I'm wrong

I'm very tired. I woke up not-that-late to go to the gym, showered and got ready in a flash to go out for lunch, went to university, tried to undo some (as it turns out bogus) silliness with (this time real) silliness, made myself feel silly all day, went to class, felt sorry for the professor and appalled by my classmates, got a ride from cousin S and got here. Aunt A had been busy making dinner rice and salad. I, er... ate neither. I'm starving a little, but I just  don't want to eat anything else. 

Dinner was painfully slow. Uncle A was away. The conversation dragged on with much effort on everyone's side. Cousin I and cousin S did their best to be agreeable. I turned to petting the dog because I mentioned what should have been nice good news and aunt A used it to talk of miscarriage. As soon as cousin S made to get off the table I helped clear the dishes. When I was done with that, I set out to give the dog some food but decided to wash her plate before (it was disgusting, to be honest). 

When cousin S went away I started making arrangements to do the laundry (my bedsheets needed it badly, and I was out of pyjamas). I offered aunt A to help with her laundry. For the first time, she said she'd be embarrassed to have me help with that. I insisted and she almost agreed but ultimately (read: the last time I asked just before putting in my clothes in the washing machine) she said no. She kindly helped me put the bed cover in the dryer. I pulled out the bed cover just under "very dry to touch" and extended it over the table. Aunt A touched it and told me it was not dry yet and I shouldn't sleep on it (it's fine). Even if it were wet (I deliberately poured water on my bed before, remember?) it wouldn't make me sick. It would make me more likely to get sick if it managed to lower my defences... but it's a bit of a long shot. 

Anyway... flash forward to being done with the laundry and deciding it's about time to go to sleep, which requires leaving the cat in the garage. Since uncle A was away, no one had left her any food and her plate was also horrible so I washed it too. I was hoping I'd be able to give the aluminium can a wash and leave it out to be recycled without aunt A seeing me, but it could not be done. As I walked to the trash can to toss the can aunt A stared at me. She gave me this "who does she think she is?" kind of look so I asked "what?". I'm quite sure she lied when, flustered, she responded with a "Nothing! I just thought you look so tired!". If it was nothing her response would not have been alarm, if that were the feeling behind her look it would have looked a lot more like pity. I don't think my "what?" was that strongly asked that it merited such a reaction. Correct me if I'm wrong, but aunt A is a terrible liar. 

Correct me if I'm wrong. If I'm wrong. This adds up my sentiments on a lot of things, lately. People here would have me do things I'm sure are not right (read: morally correct). Aunt A doesn't want to recycle so I want to recycle behind her back. To a much lesser extent, I'm quite sure it's not very nice to discuss politics and tragedies as often or in all the scenarios where it's accustomed to discuss such things here. Everyone wants me to earn things through networking which I'm adamantly opposed to. Uncle A actually suggested that I cut through corners to get a job. Now, I know I'm often in ethical grey areas, and this is especially true of pirating... but help me out here: recycling metal cans is not only not forbidden, but should be encouraged to people who go through a can a day (minimum); pleasant conversation should be pleasant; jobs should be earned through showing you're qualified and not through knowing the right person; it's not a good idea to compromise my government given right to be here. 

*sigh*

[edit, 16th of January]
Look at what it's come to. While aunt A was asleep (inexplicably, might I add... the telly was blasting censored profanities from some reality show or other at a very high volume) I sneaked into the kitchen and garage. I put some dog out for the food, though she wouldn't eat (I'm now afraid aunt A gave her something that upset her stomach), and put some food out for the cat before I left her in the garage. Even as I opened the container I couldn't help but read: "Aluminium recyclable." I had to. I slid into the garage with both empty cans, closed the door quietly and, in as small a stream of water as I thought could go unheard, I washed the cans as best I could before leaving them in the recycling bin. I was hoping there would be more there to "hide" the cans, but alas! there was only a single container there. Before coming back to my room I just had to turn down the volume on the television. It was driving. me. mad. 

Aunt A woke up shortly after that (really? the noise doesn't wake her, and neither did the sound of me doing the dishes, but somehow less sound woke her up?). I'm now fretting that under whatever twisted logic operates in her head, recycling is wrong and now I feel guilty about it. Even though it eats at me whenever I put the cans with the regular garbage, as I can't help but think of how much aunt A and uncle A (and many others like them) contribute to the ever growing piles of rubbish. I can't help but think of how many (and I'm sure the number's in the hundreds, at least) cans of cat and dog food over the year have gone without being recycled and the thought haunts me. I'm well aware of many possibly less-than-eco-friendly choices of mine, but somehow their deliberately hypocritical approach at recycling gets to me. 

I can't believe I did the right thing and it now feels wrong on account of reasons as ridiculous as aunt A's unwillingness to recycle. 

To think this all started because the telly was on so loud I couldn't focus on the textbook I was reading and wanted to go to sleep so I could make up for the lost time tomorrow without being too sleepy. It's now been 50min since I first decided "I'll just go to sleep now."

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