Friday, 20. March 2015
Left hanging
ell, 19:49h
It all started out so well. I've been looking forward to today for the rest of the week. Only two lessons, as we had a 'short' day (only until 14:15 instead of 16:00) and no compulsory attendance for the last one as we had gotten exercises to do on our own, which basically finished the schoolday at 12:00. Plus extra ten minutes of breake so we could watch the climax of the eclipse.
After the lessons were over I went to lunch with one of the guys from my class who's also living in the residential home, a floor above me, and whom I noticed you can talk with about Star Trek, at least in so far that I talk and he understands most of it and asks when he doesn't. We compared our times in the last years of school and told each other funny stories about our teachers.
I had planed to spend the rest of the day with a little of studying, a little of housekeeping, a little of reading and maybe one or two episodes of Star Trek, until going out with my dad and my brothers in the evening to celebrate my birthday.
And then my mum called. She was sounding unusually serious, even for herself, but I put it to the stress of the week. Then she told me that my aunt had died. Not exactly my aunt, but my uncles girlfriend, who'd been ill for quite some time now.
It didn't really come like a hard blow to me as I didn't know her that well and I had known about her illness. Still my first reaction was: "Shit."
I talked with my mother about the following week, the funeral and the fact that my grandma had once again asked when I'd come home so she could congratulate me for my birthday for some time, but the real repercussions of what she had told me, only hit me, once I had hung up and started to climb the four floors to my room.
For once she had asked me to tell my brothers, and of course I had agreed, as allways. Now you figure out when to tell someone that someone else has died, when what you actually came to do is celebrating your birthday.
On the other hand it means that on the day of the funeral I'll have to take a day of school. I'm not thinking so much about the fact that I'm missing lessons, but more that I don't really want to go there. After all I didn't know her that well and I'm still wondering what I'll be doing there.
If it goes according to my mums plan, she'll fetch me the day before, and the funeral won't be until early afternoon. And that means I'll be hanging around more or less honestly depressed people for the whole day. On the other hand I can't just not go there. It's a bit of a family obligation, besides even if I didn't know her that well, it would be kind of rude, wouldn't it? Also I don't have any tests or anything else that would excuse me.
Cought up in that dilemma I couldn't get myself to anything this afternoon. I couldn't concentrate on my studys. I couldn't get together the words of the stories I have neglected writing long enough. I couldn't get myself up to do my housekeeping. And I couldn't even bring myself to watch Star Trek.
So I did what I always do, when I want to flee from the world. I took my book and I read. A full three hours (or more, I believe). Until I was finished. Not neccessarily the wisest choice, considering that the book I was recently reading is Wrath of Khan.
By now however I believe I've composed myself enough to face the social obligations of birthday parties. I've tried to get my hair somewhat in shape, but found it has already grown too long again for even my strongest hair-glue.
Just adding to the day...
After the lessons were over I went to lunch with one of the guys from my class who's also living in the residential home, a floor above me, and whom I noticed you can talk with about Star Trek, at least in so far that I talk and he understands most of it and asks when he doesn't. We compared our times in the last years of school and told each other funny stories about our teachers.
I had planed to spend the rest of the day with a little of studying, a little of housekeeping, a little of reading and maybe one or two episodes of Star Trek, until going out with my dad and my brothers in the evening to celebrate my birthday.
And then my mum called. She was sounding unusually serious, even for herself, but I put it to the stress of the week. Then she told me that my aunt had died. Not exactly my aunt, but my uncles girlfriend, who'd been ill for quite some time now.
It didn't really come like a hard blow to me as I didn't know her that well and I had known about her illness. Still my first reaction was: "Shit."
I talked with my mother about the following week, the funeral and the fact that my grandma had once again asked when I'd come home so she could congratulate me for my birthday for some time, but the real repercussions of what she had told me, only hit me, once I had hung up and started to climb the four floors to my room.
For once she had asked me to tell my brothers, and of course I had agreed, as allways. Now you figure out when to tell someone that someone else has died, when what you actually came to do is celebrating your birthday.
On the other hand it means that on the day of the funeral I'll have to take a day of school. I'm not thinking so much about the fact that I'm missing lessons, but more that I don't really want to go there. After all I didn't know her that well and I'm still wondering what I'll be doing there.
If it goes according to my mums plan, she'll fetch me the day before, and the funeral won't be until early afternoon. And that means I'll be hanging around more or less honestly depressed people for the whole day. On the other hand I can't just not go there. It's a bit of a family obligation, besides even if I didn't know her that well, it would be kind of rude, wouldn't it? Also I don't have any tests or anything else that would excuse me.
Cought up in that dilemma I couldn't get myself to anything this afternoon. I couldn't concentrate on my studys. I couldn't get together the words of the stories I have neglected writing long enough. I couldn't get myself up to do my housekeeping. And I couldn't even bring myself to watch Star Trek.
So I did what I always do, when I want to flee from the world. I took my book and I read. A full three hours (or more, I believe). Until I was finished. Not neccessarily the wisest choice, considering that the book I was recently reading is Wrath of Khan.
By now however I believe I've composed myself enough to face the social obligations of birthday parties. I've tried to get my hair somewhat in shape, but found it has already grown too long again for even my strongest hair-glue.
Just adding to the day...
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