It's the fourth day of the new year and the second of this new writing challenge to not go two days without a wordvomit. I already feel significant resistance. My brain was too empty to write this morning, so I pushed off writing until the evening when I had enough ideas accumulated throughout the course of the day for a substantial wordvomit. My goal is a Kafkaesque trick, I've realized — I technically could put off today's wordvomit till tomorrow, but then I'll be forced to do one tomorrow and I hate having my back against the wall. The only way to avoid this is by writing everyday, even though doing so means having my back against the wall anyway. (Does that make sense?)
I went to the dermatologist's office this morning for an injection. Most everyone at the office is nice, but the lady in charge of billing always makes me feel like an idiot when I check out. My mom puts a lot of pressure on me to ask for receipts and know exactly where every dollar goes, and I try my best to be a good messenger. Naturally, because I lack her intimidating persistence and insurance knowhow, it doesn't go down well. Looking up and seeing the billing lady's dead-eyed stare only makes me more flustered. I'm sorry I don't know anything! I scream inside. I'm just trying my best to figure out what's going on. How do people learn all this stuff about billing and deductibles and out of pocket maxima? The absurdity of the American healthcare system gives me fits. I'd sooner let spiders walk on my face than have to call in to dispute an erroneous charge again.
I walked into my dad's office this afternoon to find him looking for jobs for me on his computer, which stressed me out so much I promptly went upstairs to do the same myself. How is it that my parents are more stressed I am, enough so to look for jobs on their own? They must realize that they can't do it for me.
I must admit that looking for jobs is more challenging than I previously anticipated. I loosely based my initial expectations on how it was in college, but back then I at least knew what to apply for, even if I was short on desire or qualifications: I could type the words "software engineer" into the LinkedIn omnibox and apply to every suitable opening under the sun. Now I know a little more about what I don't want to do, but that only makes finding what I do want to do harder. Hitting rifle targets with a Nerf gun is difficult enough, but to do it blindfolded? Not giving up will be a feat in itself.
I went to a Malaysian restaurant for lunch today, and their curry laksa noodles left feeling underwhelmed. I expected the broth to be subtly sweet, but instead got only creamy and spicy notes. Now that I'm thinking about it, how do we ever know what's the right way to make something? I've had curry laksa before and remember it as sweet, but what if it was the last restaurant I went to that made it wrong? The older I get, the more I realize just how little I know about food (and everything else, but that's neither here nor there). I don't feel like I'm qualified to pass judgment on any foods anymore unless I've had it enough times in different places to build a healthy sample size.