Almost done

I just lied on the floor for... a long time. I don't know, and I do know why. I don't have anything special to do today. Except that I was supposed to write my personal statement for the British Universities I'm applying to... But the stress is still there. It's not like overwhelming stress, it's just the feeling that all this work will never end. I've written a hundred and few more essays and there's still few dozens more to write. And no matter how much effort I put in them, I always end up getting a bad or a just fine grade. And somehow it feels like lying on the floor would help. It doesn't, really. Well, it helps the moment when you're actually lying on the floor not thinking about anything rational. But the moment you get up, or even start planning to get up, the same stress and/or anxiety is there.

If I'm being absolutely honest here, I'm annoyed when the Finnish, "normal" high schoolers complain about their schoolwork and stress. Come on, do you have about eight extra long essays (some including lab work) demanding deep knowledge of a source/sources you hardly even understand, one super long essay demanding even more deep knowledge and background investigation, two oral presentations and three oral exams? And CAS on top of that. Which is doing sports, charity and something creative for 150 hours altogether. PLUS the normal coursework. I don't like complaining, but just to encourage all the normal high schoolers: it's really not that hard.

However, I chose the program myself. I didn't know it was going to be that much work, but here we are. Anyhow, I like to think that the more you work, the better it will feel like when it's over. Three more weeks until Christmas holiday. Almost done.

Perfectionism, spontaneity and handling stress

My room is not tidy all the time, but I keep objects in a 90-degree angle on my table. I'm obsessed with correcting people's English pronunciation and spelling mistakes, but I can't pronounce English myself. I know how to pronounce, but my tongue won't co-operate. I don't need to be perfect at school, but if I do something I like, I'm not happy before it's perfect. If I think I can do something better, my mind won't rest before I've done it so well I couldn't do it better. It's quite exhausting sometimes, but at least it makes me do my best. When I care enough, I'm a monstrous perfectionist.

I have a plan for doing schoolwork. It's a timetable where I mark exactly what I'm going to do, how much and when. It's called "The Survival Plan". I love and hate planning things like that. I couldn't live without my Survival Plan because I have so many things to do I'd easily forget some of them. And at least I return my essays on time. On the other hand, I'm quite a spontaneous person. I like doing what I feel like when I feel like. I'd love to go running middle of the night, but apparently you can't do that anymore in this fucked up world. Especially if you're a woman... Outside the subject. Best ideas come when you don't try to come up with something. Therefore I never seek inspiration. I do things when they pop into my head. Too bad that school kind of prevents my spontaneity. I wake up when it's dark and come home when it's dark. Dark is okay, but being tired is not. I can't wait for the Christmas holiday when I have time to live and be spontaneous again.

I lied today to the IB-coordinator. I said school doesn't cause me stress. It does, but I'm quite good at handling it. By that I mean I get things done on time, but I also lie on the floor screaming inside my head (because screaming out loud would startle my cat and disturb my parents). I also eat too much chocolate and stare blankly at the screen of my laptop for hours. But I'm quite good at ignoring stress. It'll probably cost me a cardiovascular disease.

Overall, I'm a disorganized perfectionist who's spontaneously organized and stress-freely stressed.

Winter is coming

Yes, I watch Game of Thrones. But that is not the subject. The first snow came today here in Tampere! I was at the gym in the morning (which is a miracle) and driving back home was a nightmare. I love snow and there was a lovely wintery atmosphere, but I saw pretty much nothing through the windshield. But yay, I'm still alive.

Let's not be too optimistic. It's gonna melt soon, anyhow. But you gotta enjoy while it lasts!

And about Game of Thrones, how many freaking seasons are they going to keep saying "Winter is coming" before it actually comes?

Paper cuts

I had an inspiration for this poem yesterday on math lesson. I had a paper cut from my math book. Paper cuts are small and pretty harmless, but they hurt. At least for that one startling moment when they happen. Soon after you might forget that you even had a paper cut, but it's still there. Sometimes you can feel it and see it long after.

Paper cuts

I kinda lost the track

past and present, they don’t match

Can’t help looking back

but I have messed the path

Paint my nails black

Paper cuts along the way

but years have faded those stains

Spend my life

trying to feel alive

Listening to all these songs

wondering what went wrong

Turn on the melancholic notes

Paper cut

One rosy drop

I could stay and try again

What have I ever given?

I could leave and let it be

What have I ever received?

Step into those aching heels

Paper cut and a drop of life

flows out of this fight

Shut my eyes

I don’t waste my time

I don’t need these lies

I’m free from those ties

Switch off the light

Those years, these months

Only paper cuts

Say it with a shirt

I like shirts that say something. Not anything as serious as a political opinion, but something funny yet true. Some of my meaningful shirts are quite old and not really my style any longer, so I don't wear then anymore. Except when I'm home lying on a couch all day. The only bad thing is that I don't like loose clothes very much, but all the shirts with nice prints tend to be loose.
I arranged them from the newest to the oldest. For some reason.

I will stop wearing black when they invent a darker colour.

Boyfriends are overrated. No matter what my dating friend says.

It's the most terrible time of the year. I mean mostly the part
when we have to be at school in winter. And autumn. And spring.

Because Paris is always a good idea.

Pardon my french.

Two words, one finger. This one I don't even use
anymore, but the print is just too good.

Coca-Cola Shampoo

I heard about this on the radio yesterday. I don't usually try all the weird beauty tips, but now I decided to give it a try since I found coke in the fridge. It's supposed to make your hair softer and give volume. The radio people also said that it made their hair smell really good.

My hair is still wet, so I don't know about the soft and volume part yet. However, I don't notice any scent in my hair. Although it might be because I used conditioner after the coke treatment. We'll see how this turns out.

My judgement is that Coke might actually work. It doesn't entirely replace shampoo, but it does seem to give at least a little volume.

Survival skills

I've been home alone since last Thursday, and will continue being alone until next Thursday, since my parents went on a vacation. I like being home alone, and I can keep the house up. I'm a rather tidy person, so it doesn't get horribly messy even when there's no one to tell me to clean up. I don't forget to lock the doors and I'm not afraid to spend the dark nights alone. I have a car and a driver's license, so shopping groceries is easy. But there's one thing I suck at: cooking. I am absolutely, horribly, unbelievably bad at cooking. I rarely eat a hot meal a day when I'm alone. I hate cooking, I hate how much time it takes, and I hate how bad I am at it. Few days back I made scrambled eggs and I was super proud of myself. Today I made mashed potatoes. It was okay. Quite lumpy, though... But at least I ate something. I'm not even exaggerating when I tell you how hard it is for me to cook. If you wonder if someone can actually be so pathetic that boiling potatoes is an achievement, the answer is yes: I am.
One day I was supposed to make avocado pasta. I don't like spicy food, so I didn't buy chili. Lime I didn't buy because of some sort of mental brain freeze. I thought I had basil at home, but I didn't. So I ended up eating pasta and chopped avocado. And the avocado was still raw. Yummy. And the water from my pasta kettle boiled out of the kettle onto the stove. It happens every time. Even if I just boil water, it bursts out of the kettle.
I used to like baking, but I don't anymore. I always screw up. Yesterday I was supposed to bake mudcake cupcakes. They were too long in the oven. I was so pissed I ate all nine of them at once.
I simply hate cooking. I haven't always hated, but since I fail every damn time, I have grown to hate it. When I move out to my own apartment, I will live with coffee and bananas. And cookies, of course.

Life between deadlines

That's how you feel like when you're going through the November of the senior year of IB: living between deadlines. Or to be precise, there is no life between deadlines. There are just deadlines. There is the deadline for submitting a lab design for biology IA, which was today (I didn't submit it), and there is the deadline on next Monday for returning the very final version of EE. Then there is the deadline for psychology IA that should have been done ages ago, but our teacher was merciful. And then there is the psychology test that I, because there are no other words to describe it, fucked up.
By saying that there is no life between deadlines, I mean that you take a piece of work that has to be returned soon, panic because you have no idea what to do, figure it out somehow while forgetting what such things as 'social life', 'fun' and 'outside world' mean. In the matter of fact, 'life' becomes an absurd concept. Then comes the happy day when you return the essay, project or whatever task it is (before or after the deadline), and suddenly you remember that you are young and free to live and experience. However, this hallucination dies very soon when you check your To do- list and start struggling with the next deadline. And on the cycle goes. You take a deep breath after each deadline and keep on working. If some poor soul (like me...) made the mistake of thinking "I'll work hard for few weeks or even months, have things done and take it easy for the rest of the semester", here's the cruel reality: the work never ends.
I feared November the whole semester. Now it's here. November means that deadlines become more real than ever. Applying becomes real. If earlier I could procrastinate for a day, now I can't even dream of that. It's all about school and figuring out what to do with my life now. It's like a wake up call to real life. Right now I don't have a life, and yet right now I should be extremely aware of the one life I have and make sure it will take the direction I want it to take. Some weeks, maybe a bit over a month, ago I could wake up in the morning and think that if I just got up and survived through the school day, I could come back home in the afternoon and relax for a moment. Do some compulsory schoolwork and then focus on something I actually like doing. Draw, write, go for a run. Now I wake up in the morning, go to school, come back home, open my laptop and stare at the screen until I get something done. And think about nothing. Nothing that relates to school and nothing that relates to the things I love doing. Because if (and when) I do, my stress level jumps so high I want to lay down on the floor and cry.
In a nutshell, living between deadlines on a program that was designed for people who are the perfect opposite of you means learning to live in the very moment. Thinking about tomorrow is a mental suicide. Yet I dare to say that if I could turn back time and choose another school or program, I wouldn't.