one month, 19 days and 10 hours.

that's how long i've been here. i'm writing this from the confines of my small office. perhaps when i'm finished, i will head back to the confines of my shared room, brush my teeth and have my first early night since... i don't even remember anymore. tonight, against doctor's orders (and lowkey unintentionally), i'd skipped dinner. instead, i'd ended up busting open a packet of the jellybeans that'd been in my belated birthday care package five sent and scoffed half of it. without even really meaning to. what is my life?

it's t-minus three days to new father's arrival and eight days till i take my first flight home. truth be told, i'm more than ready. and for some strange reason, keep having pangs of nostalgia envisioning myself walking through ou and driving everywhere. and, SLEEPING IN MY OWN BED. with only my standing fan on, clad in nothing but skin.


dear God. how much do i miss all the places that feel safe. it's hard out here. nothing, no one i know (and i mean, really know) is here. it has only been a little over a month and already i've caught a terrible infection— and i know who from, too. it's just confirming that everything out here is treacherous to my wellbeing. and nobody is who, what and how they seem. on the surface, everything seems simple enough. but there are complexities underlying and for the most part, nobody who isn't in the exact situations can never know or understand.