4:38 PM on a Saturday
Sitting in my room. It’s 4:38 PM. It’s Saturday. And the room isn’t even mine— it’s part of the condo deal that my boss received through the production company she works for. The condo is hers, and yes, I live with her. But she isn’t here right now, or all of next week, which leaves me stuck here, useless, at 4:38 PM on a late Saturday afternoon. The room is all white. It is a modern looking, stainless steal type of condo. I only moved here 2 months ago and this bed is still my default when there are no emails to write or things to return.
I literally ache for activity.
There is nothing.
I eat some food and I’m not hungry, and then resolve to fall asleep early this time and wake up tomorrow morning with energy for the gym. This is a lie though, and I know it, because I never actually wake up early and go to the gym. In the past, I’ve only done that when life has been something I wanted to ignore, and running seemed to help me with that.
I’m not ignoring life, though. I’m just caught somewhere between action and inaction. I am in a white room, on a bed, at 4:38 PM on a Saturday.
My phone does not ring, my Facebook has no activity, and it won’t have any activity in 5 minutes when I go to check it again, either. I click on the ‘photo booth’ icon on my Macbook and I check my face to see if it still tallies up, and it does. I stare at myself. I feel hopeful and alone at the same time. I see the face going somewhere and doing something, I see someone loving this face, but the face that looks back at me hasn’t showered or changed today and is sitting in bed at 4:38 PM on a saturday.
I grow annoyed, and flip my computer shut. I am sick of this. I get up and stand on the carpeted floor, unsure of what I’m going to do now that I’ve left the famous bed. I look out the window. It’s almost 5 now, and the day is almost over.