IT’S NOT THAT…

It’s not that I can’t think of anything witty to say right now, it’s just that my nose is stuffed, my head is clogged, and I’m chugging down hot tea like there’s no tomorrow to hope the ample fluid will cleanse my weak body.

That’s how I feel–freezing and wanting to throw a tantrum–except I’m indoors, it never snows here, I’m 10 years older, and I can’t shamelessly cry in public anymore.

It’s not that I surround myself with people who smoke and drink beer, it’s just that they surround themselves around me.

I went running yesterday and noticed these bad buddies in our yard AND next to our mailbox. A Christmas present from our new neighbors?


Thanks Neighbors. We appreciate it.

It’s not that I fear going back to school after my winter break, it’s just that I fear failure, a.k.a, receiving anything other than an A on my report card.

Help me on this one. I’ve been told countless number of times that grades don’t matter in grad school because everyone receives high grades. However, high grades still consist of an “A” or “B.” I cannot get a B because I’m paying too much out of my own pocket for my tuition to end up with a B at the end of the semester. Work harder you tell me? Yes, I concur. I do work hard. I work so hard that I rarely have time to myself; rarely have a break. I work so hard that this “break” is not much of break…which is why I’m sick.

I understand that all I can expect out of myself is to try my best but what if my hardest isn’t enough? What if I’m not trying my hardest but I just believe I am?

What if I’m just being paranoid and giving myself too much pressure you say? Yes. I’m female. I over analyze.

Ugh. HELP.

It’s not that my interest in food has declined today, I was just saving the best for last.

I find my food less enjoyable these days.

I’ve been craving peanut butter but the peanuts combined with its sweet content makes me susceptible to rashes. So I opted for the fake, altered Better n’ Peanut Butter.


…Diluted with my mom’s homemade unsweetened soymilk.

The end product barely has a hint of peanut buttery-ness and obviously didn’t satisfy my cravings. My mom asked me so politely this morning after noticing the ambiguous substance in the bowl: “What is that stuff?”

I think I watered it down a bit too much. What do you think?

It’s not that I dislike my mom’s homemade food, it’s just that since I’ve transitioned to being 90% vegetarian, I’ve become more picky and more opposed to eating foods with hidden bits of meat in my food.

My mom strives to give me that proper nutrition so she sneaks these meat pieces inside our food. I also cannot be so selfish because the rest of my family still eats meat and I cannot expect my mom to cook fully vegetarian meal to cater to me. However, I’ve grown rather cranky lately whenever I do not get what I want (especially when it comes to food). Blame it on my sickeness? PMS? Hmmm…

However, I know my mom is trying her hardest satisfy the omnivores and herbivores in the family.

Yesterday’s meal consisted of two types of homemade dumplings: spinach, scrambled eggs, and mushroom dumplings and beef, shrimp cabbage dumplings.

It’s not easy being a mother. I know.

I should be a better daughter.

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