Willy Hunt
Day 216: Wednesday, October 12, 2011
After a long flight as well as an overall long mentally demanding trip hanging with the folks, I finally made it home. Haruki Murakami said in his book that “…private time, is important to help me keep [one’s] mental well-being.” I couldn’t have agreed more. It might be a little hard to believe, but I am a very private person. I need my own space and I need my own time for a good portion of the day, so after about a week of being cooped up with my parents without a moment to myself, I almost lost it. When times got bad, I tried to remind myself that it was only 5-10 days out of a year, which doesn’t seem so bad, but in reality it was, which made me feel super guilty and wonder why I couldn’t be a more patient and tolerant son.
When I entered the front door, I noticed a letter from Hannah, our house sitter (...Yuki and Ian had gone away on vacation as well). It said that Willy had been good and hadn’t peed anywhere, but she had to separate our fishes into two tanks because Mikan, our goldfish, had been raping the other fish. When I checked to see how they were doing, Fluffy, our black fish, looked rather sad and lonely in her mini tank, which didn’t even have a motor to produce air. I remembered how Fluffy and Mikan used to be best friends, so I just assumed that Hannah didn’t know much about fish and put her back in the big tank with the others. Afterwards I went out and got some Indian food, bought some toast for breakfast at the convenience store, came home, cleaned the tub, responded to some emails in the kitchen while listening to Morita Doji and Bill Callahan, went upstairs to get some clean clothes, checked the office to see if Willy had peed under my desk again and of course she did and it smelt terrible because it had been there for days, which really bummed me out; cleaned that up, took a hot bath, talked to the girl, who I like, for thirty minutes and was relieved to find out that things weren’t weird between us; went to the kitchen and noticed Fluffy was hiding behind a rock, which was unusual, and then realized that it was because Mikan, who is four times bigger, was still bullying her; refilled the mini tank with water, which I had emptied earlier; tried to put Fluffy back in but since I couldn’t catch her, I gave up with the reason that she had to learn to fight her own battles; washed my hands, watched some porn in bed, but the videos kept being cut off after two minutes with a pop-up sign asking me to pay membership, so I watched something on Youtube instead, which was boring, but helped me complete my mission, and then finally went to bed.
This morning, I got up at six feeling great with a clear head. After being inspired by Murakami’s book about running all last week, I was excited to finally go rock climbing at the gym again. I went downstairs. The fish seemed to be doing alright. While I was making toast, Willy came in through the kitchen window for breakfast, and to my surprise, even though after last night’s fiasco, I was still glad to see her because I realized something then, which maybe I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t been away. Even with all these little annoying troubles like rapist goldfish, a cat that pees everywhere, unrequited love, and porn videos that always stopped when they were getting good, this was still the world that I had created and chosen. I was no longer back in America, stuck at my parents expensive suburban home feeling shabby and worthless with my shabby, worthless clothes or at my sister’s place with her hip friends, whom of no fault of their own had always made me feel insecure since forever. I was now back home, which is definitely not perfect as well as not for everyone, but I fit in well and have a place here. My cat needs me, my fish need me, and my tea and two slices need me because I am the glue that holds these random things together as well as they are the glue that keeps me together.
To sum it up, I guess I am not so adventurous like I once was.
After a long flight as well as an overall long mentally demanding trip hanging with the folks, I finally made it home. Haruki Murakami said in his book that “…private time, is important to help me keep [one’s] mental well-being.” I couldn’t have agreed more. It might be a little hard to believe, but I am a very private person. I need my own space and I need my own time for a good portion of the day, so after about a week of being cooped up with my parents without a moment to myself, I almost lost it. When times got bad, I tried to remind myself that it was only 5-10 days out of a year, which doesn’t seem so bad, but in reality it was, which made me feel super guilty and wonder why I couldn’t be a more patient and tolerant son.
When I entered the front door, I noticed a letter from Hannah, our house sitter (...Yuki and Ian had gone away on vacation as well). It said that Willy had been good and hadn’t peed anywhere, but she had to separate our fishes into two tanks because Mikan, our goldfish, had been raping the other fish. When I checked to see how they were doing, Fluffy, our black fish, looked rather sad and lonely in her mini tank, which didn’t even have a motor to produce air. I remembered how Fluffy and Mikan used to be best friends, so I just assumed that Hannah didn’t know much about fish and put her back in the big tank with the others. Afterwards I went out and got some Indian food, bought some toast for breakfast at the convenience store, came home, cleaned the tub, responded to some emails in the kitchen while listening to Morita Doji and Bill Callahan, went upstairs to get some clean clothes, checked the office to see if Willy had peed under my desk again and of course she did and it smelt terrible because it had been there for days, which really bummed me out; cleaned that up, took a hot bath, talked to the girl, who I like, for thirty minutes and was relieved to find out that things weren’t weird between us; went to the kitchen and noticed Fluffy was hiding behind a rock, which was unusual, and then realized that it was because Mikan, who is four times bigger, was still bullying her; refilled the mini tank with water, which I had emptied earlier; tried to put Fluffy back in but since I couldn’t catch her, I gave up with the reason that she had to learn to fight her own battles; washed my hands, watched some porn in bed, but the videos kept being cut off after two minutes with a pop-up sign asking me to pay membership, so I watched something on Youtube instead, which was boring, but helped me complete my mission, and then finally went to bed.
This morning, I got up at six feeling great with a clear head. After being inspired by Murakami’s book about running all last week, I was excited to finally go rock climbing at the gym again. I went downstairs. The fish seemed to be doing alright. While I was making toast, Willy came in through the kitchen window for breakfast, and to my surprise, even though after last night’s fiasco, I was still glad to see her because I realized something then, which maybe I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t been away. Even with all these little annoying troubles like rapist goldfish, a cat that pees everywhere, unrequited love, and porn videos that always stopped when they were getting good, this was still the world that I had created and chosen. I was no longer back in America, stuck at my parents expensive suburban home feeling shabby and worthless with my shabby, worthless clothes or at my sister’s place with her hip friends, whom of no fault of their own had always made me feel insecure since forever. I was now back home, which is definitely not perfect as well as not for everyone, but I fit in well and have a place here. My cat needs me, my fish need me, and my tea and two slices need me because I am the glue that holds these random things together as well as they are the glue that keeps me together.
To sum it up, I guess I am not so adventurous like I once was.
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