The heater kicks on, knocking every metallic part into the the wall as I shoot up, sweating, gasping for breath. Was that an M-16? A tank? I slam my hand against the wall to regain my balance as I squint through the darkness. It's so warm; too warm. I'm not there. The strong smell of the musty dirt in Andrew's bachelor pad and Karim's cigarettes fades away from my nostrils. The image of the moonlit balcony morphs into Venetian blinds. They gently rattle, pierced by the frigid cold. They replace the lull of the lapping Mediterranean in my ear drum. I feel embarrassed as I fall back into my half-delirious dream phase.
It happens all the time. Walking down State Street. A drop of a skateboard and it's four wheels make my head jerk. The bang of the heater makes my heart leap. The motors of the cranes downtown fill me with hope for a second as it triggers an image of a tank rolling through the street. My minds jerks my thoughts toward reality again from my split-second strays from the moment. I looked out that window of the 15th story of that apartment down onto the soft glow of lamplights in the heart of that Egyptian night, shots and explosions ringing in the distance. Inundated with this visual audio stimuli, along with the laundry list of conflicting internal emotions, this moment is forever burned into my mind.
February was the most trying month of my life. I arrived with nothing (I still don't have much). The sting of being told "no" by 6 universities still lingers; I still can't even say that I've processed it. It feels how I imagined it would be to be dumped. Ironic those relationships never even began and they were over. I broke my vow not to return to Starbucks realizing finding a quick job after Egypt was not really a realistic option, especially when I was still waiting to see if I could make a commitment to a "real" job for a while. I still don't know. I decided again to put my head on the chopping block and applied late to Rice and MSU; I didn't feel like taking no for an answer. Realizing that I would rather continue my education rather than apply for programs I thought were challenging enough for me was a huge realization that cost me hundreds of dollars in app fees. Sigh.
I still don't have my clothes from up north from my stepdad. Good-intentioned, but I'm freezing down here without my sweaters.
I can't believe how expensive things are in this country. I can't believe some spend 31.32 Egyptian pounds on a latte. I can't believe people berate me like spoiled children when their drink isn't the exact "iced decaf tall non-fat/soy 2 pump mocha/2 1/3 pump sugar-free cinnamon dolce light whip latte" mess that they ordered when people are being gunned down by their government in Bahrain because they want democratic institutions. It really puts my job, and my life for that matter, into perspective. I feel sorry for these poor people. They have no idea that their little upset has fallen to an undetectable "zero" on my caredar. But I continue to smile. Their rude, condescending remarks about my intelligence don't bother me as much as they did before I went to Egypt. I remember someone once told me that one day, I won't care about what people thought of me as I got older and "wiser". All I could do was say that he'd somehow "given up" on himself. No, he was right. When you're younger, you can never really fathom sagacity. A build-up of life is required, and it's something that cannot be recorded and learned through words or paper. It's ironic that I realized this a year later in this woman's bougey, overpriced latte.
Though February was a crash course on the consequences of being unprepared for a return to America, I feel better about March. I'm making headway in sorting it all out, trying to keep a smile. Or at least a straight face. Yesterday was the first day in a long time I was so tired that I my stresses soaked through. So damn cranky; it felt like everything was just falling apart and I was making no progress. It was like the line of customers all day from the pillar to the counter that showed no sign of slowing all day. No matter how fast I worked, how much I smiled, how much I tried to reinforce happy thoughts and pleasantries, I wore down. I cracked. I've felt so tired for a couple weeks now, and it's starting to get to me. I just want to nap, but this all-over-the-place schedule won't let me.
I need a hug.
For the first time in a while, I don't get to call a lot of the shots in my own life. I'm learning humility through constant exposure to the word "sorry" and "no". It's more like a refresher course I wasn't expecting to take.
Keeping a positive attitude is a skill I'm still trying to learn. Yes, I'm alive. Let's start there. I didn't die in Egypt. Everyone keeps reminding me. But really, do we have to start with such a trite, unrealistic baseline? I'm worn out, but I'm hopeful. I started running long-distance again. My body is starting to come back alive, I can feel it in my chest when I breathe. (God, I have a chest?) I gave up snacking, it reinforces the exercise. I missed running so much in Egypt. You lose one, you gain one. I have my friends, family, projects, determination, and my stamina. I still have my pride and good judgement. I'll wait this one out. It's going to be good for me.
Otherwise, I'll just sell myself on the street corner or join an Arab rebellion. Either one will be quite profitable for either my pocketbook or resume.
I feel positive about what lies ahead, even escaping Starbucks. There's been too much good over the past few months for me to be mopey. Cereal, my one unshakeable addiction, is no longer $10/box like in Alex. I also found this great guy who I really care about and makes me the happiest I've been since...well, I can't even remember. I love spending time with him. He, too, has dreams, ambitions, and motivation. It's contagious. It's sexy as hell.
As my oft-quoted hero Sartre said, you are a blank canvas and it is up to you to decide what goes on it. "l'Existence précède l'éssence." Your past doesn't determine who you will become. I always knew that, and I've watched year after year as opportunity just seemed to fall into my lap. I took it. Such luxury might be out of my reach for the short term, but I'm confident that it'll be back when I'm ready to seize it.
So-
I raise my cereal bowl to the future, wherever it may be. Or rather, whatever I will make of it.
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