CH1: Life Goes On 4: Reading is Stress-free and Driving is Not

Hello, Tim!

It's been a tiring week, in multiple aspects, but it has been one productive and eventful week as well, which is why I'm not exactly complaining about it. 

Looking back at this week, I have a handful of things to talk about, but just as usual, I only have enough time to write about several of them. Still, I'm writing with a view to be as inclusive as possible.

CH1. Life Goes On 3: Post-Malady and on Being Slow

Hello, Tim!

After the Fever

It took me a whole week to go from feverish, limb-wobbling illness to a milder cough-cough and sore-throaty cold. This is one of my longest-spanning sicknesses, and now that the germs plaguing my body are more or less dissipate, I most certainly would want to extricate myself from any further maladies.
Sometimes I feel the impulse to smack the backside of the head of whoever told me that it would be all games and fairy dances after graduation, given that I am now undergoing nothing remotely of the sort.
The weather was already a nuisance to fight against. Through the course of the week, when I was still taking meds to combat the sickness, it was beyond horrible to stay in both environments, with or without air conditioning. It's too humid and hot to stay outdoors, but the aircon would then be too cold for my weakened body system. Aside from that, there was still a throng of offices to cope with, and I think it was the long distance walks that barricaded my sickness from a faster recovery I would receive had I stayed in bed more often. Minus the German courses, I also had to go to the German Institute to have my transcript verified, had some documents sent to the agency so that they can help me mail the application form for German universities, and I have also driving lessons to go to. I wouldn't say that any of them is meaningless -They are anything but- but it surely would be nice if I could have a whole day to myself and liberated from all obligations.

Tardiness

I admit, even before making this decision, I have been harboring several beliefs and so-called "life-mottos" that are objectively viewed as "childish and unrealistic".

"Slow" is a word that has stuck with me for almost as long as I was born. If I hadn't known better, I would speculate that I have ADD that was not diagnosed; I am easily distracted, and my train of thoughts are always zooming in and out, to and fro on different rails. It's a reinless horse with no one to direct. When it happens, what I was doing at the moment would also stop or at least slow down. Take my dishwashing for example. I would stand at the sink, singing along to the French pop songs that I play with my cellphone. One of the words in the lyrics would hook my attention, like a sweater whose string of yarn can get caught up by a twig on a tree you walk past. It's just one of the million ways to get me distracted, but in any case, it would end up with my hands that are gradually stopping in motion. Only after several moments would I snap out of the daze and get back to work. My mother is often irritated by my slouchy and slow work. It is one of the recurring topics that has been in our recent arguments, especially when it comes to part-time jobs.
I know that I am slow, but I suppose that it's the defense mechanisms in my gears that compels me to argue, to differ, and to contrast with some verbal oppositions every time I am described as "slow".
Call it an excuse, but I call my sloth-resembling philosophy a way of living leisurely, no matter how often it was brushed off with a flippant and a derogatory huff by my mother. I know that in this fast-moving society, there are not many spaces for people without the ability to "speed up", and my philosophy is possibly applicable only after retirement, and this is why I feel like I have to stop feeling sorry for myself and my slow nature.

This was a picture taken at Candy's place when I gave her a visit this Wednesday.
There are only less than two weeks before their college entrance test. Wish them good luck!

End

This pretty much concludes the week. Tomorrow at eight I would have to report at my little demons' house and be in charge for another day or two. I can already smell trouble and a free movie ticket on the way.

Sincerely,

Hugo

CH1. Life Goes On 2: After-Hike Sores and Oh No I Think I'm Sick

Greetings, Tim!

I know that I have now an ample time for me to conduct on my own accord, but I am... unavailable. At least for now.
This Saturday, I went hiking on a trial on my own. The sun was beaming and the wet dirt caused by yesterday's rain was still there. It was indeed a day worthy of some outdoor activities. I hiked up the hills and lumps, one by one, with the accompany of a stopwatch.
Needless to say, with the watch ticking, I felt the urge to hike as fast as possible...
Fast forward to this morning. I woke up feeling incredibly sore. All I ever wanted to do was to lie there and just wallow in the dull throbbing that penetrated my bottom limbs. The pain was so acute that I didn't notice that my head was throbbing with pain as well. "I think I'm sick," The revelation hit only when it was noon. Right then, I felt hot and cold at the same time. My skin was radiating heat but my insides felt like they could really make good use of the heat.
This must be one of my worst sicknesses since elementary school.
Moving and not moving both hurt, and having soup did but lessen my sore throat. The air-con was on, and I think my skin hissed when the cold air hit.
Therefore, I need to rest in bed early today.
Just for the record, my cousin brought me to enroll in a driving school, whose courses start next week. When my illness retreats, I hope I'll be able to give a more detailed account.

Sincerely,
Hugo

CH1. Life Goes On 1: Babysitting and It was Just Tiring

Hello, Tim!
A week after graduation and the days seem to move on just fine.
I still chat with my friends online and even met up with William just one day after graduation, but there is a heap of free time on our hands now, and it is up to us as to how to make use of them.
So far I'm doing... fine?
I don't know! I still spend too much time on my mindless cellphone games and it really makes me guilty, not being able to get rid of them easily. On the other hand, though, I also did various other activities like hiking and taking up a three-day babysitting challenge, and the latter made me really proud. Let's now look closer at the biggest activity of the week!

Negotiating and Governing Two Little Demons

"Anyway, I got time now, so... Why not?"
This is a very dangerous thought, as it turned out. Sophie and Aiden are not only known for their cuteness and energy; they are also known for their ignorance to requests from adults and their not-so-latent tendency to blithely and conveniently forget what they are supposed to pay mind to. It was sheer affection (borderline infatuation) for the two kids that made me overlook the caveats that implied the mental outbreaks that are prone to take place.
Okay, that was too much. I love the kids, no matter how much they made me wish that I have something to squeeze until crack.

Two of my favorite kids in the world.

Fortunately, the kids know that I won't resolve to loosen the rules I made for them no matter how many they try to wriggle out of it. That made our little "cooperation" a bit smoother than usual.
Taking care of kids should not be just hours of TV marathons and pizza and soda kind of happiness, especially when you are planning on taking care of them for any timeframe beyond a day.
You ask the kids what they want to do for the instant, and when it is a reasonable request, you respect the idea and try to fulfill it.
Sophie and Aiden wake up at different times of the day. It made my morning job easier since I could focus on one thing at a time, one kid at a time. I would spread Aiden's piece of toast with butter as I asked him to wash his face and brush his teeth. Then, I would prepare his medicaments to fight against his allergies and he would come to me and ask me for how long I would be looking after them. Dragging me to his bedroom, he would show me his jungle-green luggage he packed for himself for his family trip to Italy in the near future. "I folded all my clothes on my own and stuffed them inside the luggage," he proudly announced. Note that he is only nearly six.

The 'Ding' coming from the kitchen indicated that the toast is... toasted. With all the luggage dragging and the loud voices Aiden made, it was about time that Sophie woke up. I led Aiden back to the living room, served him his toasted toast and milk, and requested that he behave and eat up. It was a good thing that he likes toast with butter. That would keep him occupied. It would then become Sophie time. As the bigger sister by four years, it is quite a pity that she isn't more independent than Aiden. Therefore, I had to do all the things I did with Aiden all over again. Being able to manage one kid at a time only gave me the chance to give equal attention to both kids.
When both had finished their breakfast, Sophie would ask for some time on her iPad since she wanted to listen to some music. Some might call it preaching because she would ask you incessantly if you know about some random fact about some certain singers.
Several songs and awkward dancing later, and I asked them if they would like to hit the park and just have some fun. Both kids love the park and the playground, so rarely do they turn down offers like this.
I am familiar with a scenario like this:
-We go to the park
-We play tag and I have to act like a giant monster or ogre or anything of the sort
-The other kids are intrigued by our little games
- Sophie and Aiden extend their hands and ask if the others want to join
-We play tag and I have to act like a giant monster or ogre or anything of the sort
-The roles became reversed and now I am the monster which is chased after by three to six or even eight vicious kids
-One random kid suggested that we all play another game; most people agree
-Sophie switches to her constipated face and looked at me; she doesn't like the idea
-She suddenly decided that she wants me for her and Aiden alone
-Sophie doesn't know how to turn down an offer and the discussion on what to play goes on another ten minutes
-The other kids leave
-A while later, we leave
Familiar with this scenario because this is what ALWAYS happens. Normally at this point, the kids are already 80% satisfied with their playground experience. We would walk home, all three of us, hand in hand.
Then came lunchtime. On the first day, they were really reluctant to eat on the principle of being rebellious kids. I had none of that. It took me no more than fifteen minutes to finish my meal but stayed at my seat until the two of them finished theirs. By doing so, I hope to let them now it is basic manners to stay at the desk at all times during a meal. The kids were goofing around; Aiden would kick (softly) Sophie under the table, and Sophie would report it to me only after she had made her retaliation. Regardless of how many times I told her that kicking back is never the best choice, but this advice never fails to escape her. Mealtimes with the to is always the most infuriating. I took a solid hour for Aiden to finish his meal.
On the second day, though, I cooked them the easy canned tuna noodles, and it was the biggest triumph of all three days. They loved the noodles and was soon asking for more soup and more fish. This is also what I love about kids: They don't lie about their preferences.
In the afternoon came the real toil. The kids, after charged with the lunch-induced energy, would tug at my clothes (figuratively) and ask for my attention to play with them. Problem was, they have different ideas about "play". For Sophie, play means doing stretches and gymnastics, and *deep breath* body contortion. Sophie is Crazy about this kind of sports. She follows on YouTube body contortionists of roughly her age and managed to develop an incredibly flexible body. I don't know the development behind this, but it went from gymnastics to body contortion really quick. She would demand that I try to lie flat on my belly and try to touch my head with my feet. As a milder request, she would ask me to do a split, which I still can't.

It's really harder than it looks.

On the other hand, Aiden looks for more excitement. He wants to play hide and seek for the most the time. When Sophie is also in the mood, she would oblige, playing Aiden's ideal of game. When she isn't... comes my hard time. When Aiden throws a tantrum, he sulks around and doesn't talk. As the only person watching over the two, you won't want this to happen. The only plausible option was to persuade Sophie to join Aiden.
This is the first time I feel rejoice in being an eighteen-year-old; if I were one year younger, I don't think the adults would nod their heads on letting me be the only supervisor. These three days gave me a clearer picture of kids: It's utterly tiring and infuriating at times when you look after them, but when you find that you can still keep a cool voice and see two lovely angels even after they made you want to bang your head against the wall, you love kids and don't deny it.
I know that due to my own preferences, it is not going to be easy to have kids, but I certainly do hope for the day to come.

Year Three, Almost Free (Last): Really There and Oh so Surreal

Hello, Tim.
We're finally here. Really here.
Several dozen weeks ago, I was still referring to this week as something distant, vague, something from a distant folklore anecdote or of legend. I joked that I would cry the instant I see someone cry, and now it doesn't seem playful anymore. I panted a picture of the graduation ceremony in my head, and as the vision became more definite, less murky, the more affirmative I am about my crying in the near future.
The ceremony, which would take place at school tomorrow, is going to mark an end of our high school phase of life.

One year, two years, ten years from now, we are going to stare at the pictures and rewind in our minds, the "grandes choses (big events)" we once accomplished being treated as some faraway recollection. I wonder how we would look in the eyes of the older versions of us.
There are actions I am glad I had done, and there are ones that gave me regrets, whether the 28-year-old me would mark the Me today as an imbecile or an innocent is beyond my guess, but for now, I am pretty glad to have stayed in EHP.
In some really cheesy romance novels, one would ask another whether their story was fated. With tumultuous emotions rolling in one's eyes, an equally sentimental answer is heard. I don't know if there is a thing called destiny, but if that were to be true, I believe being in EHP is a big part in the written plan in my life. I look at some of my classmates as individuals, and I would be surprised at how much they had in some way changed me radically. They are like life lessons you can't buy with money. Tomorrow is the day it all comes to a halt. Expectedly, after tomorrow, we would still do meetups with one another, but there is one thing we would lose tomorrow: the times we are going to meet each other without the need for a reason. That is something only the school can provide.

In the wake of graduation comes the summer vacation, and I have several plans. My mom and I hope that I can find a part-time job, just to gain some work experience, to have a little taste of what it would feel like to be in the workforce. I also plan to keep on with both French and German and expect to make bigger progress. I also want to have my friends at my place just to hang out because when I (if I) go to Germany, who is there to name the date of when I will be able to meet my lovely friends?

Here's a toast to all my fellow friends and everyone who is out on the verge of the rest of their lives.