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It has come to my attention that the years start coming and they don’t stop coming, and I think that’s some kind of bullshit.
Okay, all things considered, I’m pretty glad to be alive. I’m about as safe as anyone. I have a nice cozy apartment (currently with no WiFi, which is supposed to be included in rent, but the landlord hasn’t paid, so I can’t watch Shrek again on nflx until he does, which will be ??? because I have to text Anna, our Fixer, who gets in touch with the landlord, so I’m at a cafe and ANYWAY). I have food and money. I am Okay For Now.
The US has made good on its threat to block the sale of direct flights between BLR and USA, which doesn’t impact me at this moment, but it will come summer when I get to go home. I did notice on the Turkish Airlines website (TA being the only major airline currently flying in and out of BLR) they had a message to contact customer service for customers needing repatriation. So I really, really need to get a transfer or work for a different school next year, because I do not want to have to deal with this. I saw a post on FB that said something like “It’s okay to be sad about the right decision,” and I feel that. Given my choices, it was the best option to return to this job. I just really, really want something else.
I had a cab driver the other day who spoke very good English and struck up conversation. Normally, I am happy to just not talk, but he was nice. He asked me what I thought about Minsk, and truthfully, it’s a nice city. It’s easy to get around. For me, the cost of living is very good, especially since my job also includes a housing stipend. I’m damn lucky. But the psychic weight of covid and political instability is heavy, and if I can divest myself of it sooner rather than later, I will.
Also, this dude put on Green Day’s “Troubled Times” and it felt like a test? I was singing along because I fucking love Green Day, and the driver said I had a nice voice.
As far as covid is concerned, it’s not … terrible? But it doesn’t seem to be getting better. The only data I have access to is the daily government figures for new cases, recoveries (and idk how that is measured) and deaths, and the numbers have been the essentially the same since I got here last September. I take it with a huge grain of salt because to be frank, I don’t really trust ANY government’s reporting to be accurate, whether the numbers are deliberately manipulated for whatever end. Like in the US, you see different places choose not test if it looks like someone has covid. On top of that, whatever stats are presented are often done without context, so even if you can parse statistics, it’s still a gamble.
All this is to say the Eternal Shrieking goes on, but school starts in just under two weeks, so at least I’ll have that to focus on.
Writing continues to be a good escape. I actually have missed two days since April (both the end of long travel days, so it’s understandable). I often feel like stopping, but I don’t want to lose the momentum, so I manage to at least get a few lines out a day. This week’s snippet is from the sparsest of WIPs. In fact, this is pretty much all I have of the story at the moment. It’s a modern AU, in the world of my fic Take My Hand and Set Me Free. I don’t know if or when I’ll finish it. It’s gonna have some Angsty Feelings, and I might need to just bury myself in fluff to get through, but who knows?
Get up and go. Easy to say, but tonight, it’s surprisingly hard to do. Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen left hours ago, but Jiang Cheng cannot make himself get up from the table in the back corner of the dark little bar where they’d toasted their victory in clearing out a nest of vicious shanxiao.
He should just go h— not home. He’s still not sure where home is. The house he’s renting for the autumn is cozy, though, and he should go there. He should make himself some tea, maybe read a bit of the book Xingchen left for him. Or sleep. He hasn’t managed to get much of that lately. The thing is, as much as he likes the little house, he’s tired of going back alone. But he’s not planning on being alone much longer.
Okay, all things considered, I’m pretty glad to be alive. I’m about as safe as anyone. I have a nice cozy apartment (currently with no WiFi, which is supposed to be included in rent, but the landlord hasn’t paid, so I can’t watch Shrek again on nflx until he does, which will be ??? because I have to text Anna, our Fixer, who gets in touch with the landlord, so I’m at a cafe and ANYWAY). I have food and money. I am Okay For Now.
The US has made good on its threat to block the sale of direct flights between BLR and USA, which doesn’t impact me at this moment, but it will come summer when I get to go home. I did notice on the Turkish Airlines website (TA being the only major airline currently flying in and out of BLR) they had a message to contact customer service for customers needing repatriation. So I really, really need to get a transfer or work for a different school next year, because I do not want to have to deal with this. I saw a post on FB that said something like “It’s okay to be sad about the right decision,” and I feel that. Given my choices, it was the best option to return to this job. I just really, really want something else.
I had a cab driver the other day who spoke very good English and struck up conversation. Normally, I am happy to just not talk, but he was nice. He asked me what I thought about Minsk, and truthfully, it’s a nice city. It’s easy to get around. For me, the cost of living is very good, especially since my job also includes a housing stipend. I’m damn lucky. But the psychic weight of covid and political instability is heavy, and if I can divest myself of it sooner rather than later, I will.
Also, this dude put on Green Day’s “Troubled Times” and it felt like a test? I was singing along because I fucking love Green Day, and the driver said I had a nice voice.
As far as covid is concerned, it’s not … terrible? But it doesn’t seem to be getting better. The only data I have access to is the daily government figures for new cases, recoveries (and idk how that is measured) and deaths, and the numbers have been the essentially the same since I got here last September. I take it with a huge grain of salt because to be frank, I don’t really trust ANY government’s reporting to be accurate, whether the numbers are deliberately manipulated for whatever end. Like in the US, you see different places choose not test if it looks like someone has covid. On top of that, whatever stats are presented are often done without context, so even if you can parse statistics, it’s still a gamble.
All this is to say the Eternal Shrieking goes on, but school starts in just under two weeks, so at least I’ll have that to focus on.
Writing continues to be a good escape. I actually have missed two days since April (both the end of long travel days, so it’s understandable). I often feel like stopping, but I don’t want to lose the momentum, so I manage to at least get a few lines out a day. This week’s snippet is from the sparsest of WIPs. In fact, this is pretty much all I have of the story at the moment. It’s a modern AU, in the world of my fic Take My Hand and Set Me Free. I don’t know if or when I’ll finish it. It’s gonna have some Angsty Feelings, and I might need to just bury myself in fluff to get through, but who knows?
Get up and go. Easy to say, but tonight, it’s surprisingly hard to do. Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen left hours ago, but Jiang Cheng cannot make himself get up from the table in the back corner of the dark little bar where they’d toasted their victory in clearing out a nest of vicious shanxiao.
He should just go h— not home. He’s still not sure where home is. The house he’s renting for the autumn is cozy, though, and he should go there. He should make himself some tea, maybe read a bit of the book Xingchen left for him. Or sleep. He hasn’t managed to get much of that lately. The thing is, as much as he likes the little house, he’s tired of going back alone. But he’s not planning on being alone much longer.
