Dealing with the Restlessness

That uneasy feeling that's been following me around for the past month still isn't going away. I usually get this way when a) I'm nervous about something and/or b) someone is mad at me. I definitely think it's the former. First, I'm nervous about my organic chem grade--I try really hard but never hard enough, it seems. I have a test on Tuesday and I've been going through the problem set, but still I know that I'm going to get a couple of things wrong and that frightens the heck out of me. But yeah. Whoo. We just do the best we can, I suppose. 

We've been studying Newman Projections--basically how the atoms on a molecule revolve around a single bond and every time we draw these circles and things I can't help but think of my religion teacher back in fourth grade, who used to fuh-reeeeek out every time anyone would bring up AC/DC. She made us watch this documentary called Hell's Bells and drew the peace sign over and over again a billion different ways on the board to warn us of its dangers--this, she said, highlighting the t-shaped sections, was the inverted cross. No, Mrs. E, I'd say--if she's still alive--those are Newman Projections. Not the devil, chemistry--definitely more vicious. (Also, I've been tinkering with the Art app of this laptop and it's so much fun--hence the site revamp/these little drawings hahaha)

Also, with all this hullaballooo going on with the DFA misplacing my papers and my flight getting delayed, I almost forgot that I am terrified of flying. I like airports (in the same weird way that I like hospitals) but I abhor planes. I remember being on a plane to Bangkok as a kid and my mom insisting I take the window seat and me hoping to goodness my discman's battery lasted the flight--goodness forbid I be forced to look out the window. I love travelling: just not the crossing an ocean 40,000 feet in the air part.

When I was in 4 grade, my tita died in a plane crash and I think that that might've been where the phobia came from. They picked me up from school and said that we all had to head home early because my parents needed to go identify the body so it was only me and my sibs at home--my sister (the eldest) was around 23 at the time, I think (roughly my age now). I truly believe that writing is a way of facing your fears--it's acknowledging curiosity so that if/when something like that happens to you, you can turn fear into discovery: "so this is how that feels". I wrote a story called Crash about a guy dying on a plane for Malate once; it's coming out in the special edition of Paperweight too--editing this again has really helped me not freak out so much.

While I'm still having trouble sleeping, the fact that I'm going to see my friends tomorrow and that I spent the past couple of days with Keav has definitely helped, I think. How've you guys been doing? I do hope you're feeling more settled than I. :)