Margin

Considering the sleepiness and tiredness I bore, I headed for bed as early as 9pm after a hot shower. I thought without taking sleeping pills would work this time, well, it didn't. I rolled out of bed after an hour.

The online course that I am taking has begun this morning. Our first assignment is a culture and current event quiz followed by a syntheses of 1000 words on pile of 48 page document constructed on various journalistic sources. I feel a bit overwhelmed: running between the classes I am auditing, the classes I am officially registered and the online that prepares me to get into concours this summer, and of course, looking for a job on the side. I shouldn't whine though, education is a privilege.

We skipped winter and spring this year, just when we thought that we fell right into summer cold weather arrived this morning and I have been freezing at school because I wore summer clothes. Despite the caffeine I overdosed today, I almost fell asleep in all my classes and I didn't even hear when the teacher asked me a question. Where did these tiredness come from?

Two schools cashed my checks and my bank account missed a digit over night. Do I look for a job now or concentrate on my homework hoping to stay in Europe longer? In my methodology class, I was drawing on the margin of the notebook: a margin between fantasy and reality.

I dreamt of France for a long time and I believed this country stored my happiness, like what we see in movies: people are nice and relaxed, in the countryside, we would dine with a big family on a long table on Sundays having conversations and red wine came from a vineyard that is 15 minutes walk from the house. I fancied continuing my studies in a Master's program, working in a local cafe over the weekend and shopping in farmer's market while knowing everyone in town. A simple life.

Come say if we are comfortable in our own skin, we would be happy no matter where we are.

I am not a unfriendly person meeting too many unfriendly people since my arrival in this country of love. I am not happy where I live because the landlord lady's boyfriend gave me problems every possible chance he could get; I don't want to go to school because the program I am officially in annoys me as I am not learning anything new; I am not in a Master's program because of some unknown reasons that wasn't explained on my refusal letter while I was trying to get into last year of BA in English; I bike everyday to school with drivers randomly double park on the streets and never use blinkers whilst fearing to slam into any car in any given moment or being rammed over by one; police didn't do anything about the injustice experiences I had; the immigration officers messed up my resident card every time; I was refused of housing because of my nationality 4 times; I couldn't find a job for a long time and I made only 2 French friends in a year and a half. And I wonder why I am not comfortable in my own skin? Why I don't like where I am and what I am doing?

Of course, there isn't paradise to be found anywhere. I am not looking for a perfect land where racism or complexity of life doesn't exist. I simply wish to be somewhere different, wish to leave the known evil for an unknown one. Meanwhile, I have so much more privileges comparing to the ones who never got the chance to get out the country, especially the ones who are a lot more talented and knowledgeable then me. Well, am I simply spoiled?

While pacing back and forth on such simple questions, I am hoping the light at the end of the tunnel shall shine soon, on my path, on my mind.