Pigeon's Nest

I have been running a lot lately. I ran 300 miles within last 7 weeks, and my running mileage for this year is now at 1312 miles. But stats are misleading as they don’t always give the full picture. The reality is that these 300 miles have come at the expense of a few other things. I am always exhausted, I haven’t been eating very well and I lately developed sore throat which is messing with the quality of my sleep.

I noticed some of these early signs two weeks ago, so I had come up with this genius idea of stocking up on delicious ready to eat stuff, like microwavable butter popcorn and basil pesto sauce I can just mix with cooked rice and eat. But I have also been dealing with this classic case of zombie brain due to all the exhaustion. I managed to burn the popcorn in my microwave yesterday because for some reason I put it at high setting for 4 minutes. Now my entire home smells like burnt butter popcorn, which makes me lose my appetite for popcorn.

And don’t even ask me about that basil pesto sauce, because I somehow lost it. Yes, I lost it, like I used to lose gel pens all the time at school when I was a kid. I can’t remember where I hid it.

And to make matters worse, my home is a mess right now. I still have all my backpacking gear from last weekend’s trip lying in my living room and there are a billion books scattered all around my apartment. I have Richard Feynman’s memoir in bathroom. I mean, what’s wrong with me? Why am I reading Richard Feynman in bathroom?

I also let my hair and beard grow meanwhile. So, my hair is this wavy curly mess. Back when I was in high school, I remember an English teacher once attempting a poetic criticism towards my hair by comparing it to a “pigeon’s nest.” I remember feeling hurt by that comment and my hair wasn’t even that bad back then, I just didn’t know how to comb it properly. But now I look at my hair in the mirror and I am like “ooh pigeon’s nest, now I see it.”

And I don’t even want to think about my beard. I think it’s the reason why Gods of English language decided the words ‘beard’ and ‘weird’ should rhyme. It managed to scare my mom and my coworkers alike.

Two months ago, I made a promise to myself that I will try to be an organized adult who takes care of himself. Of course, it’s difficult for me to fulfill it to perfect extent for every single day of my life. If I think of my self as an old worn-down car with slightly deflated tires, then one could say that I was trying my best to keep at least one tire on the road of organization. But looks like the tire has now hit a rough patch of that road.

I need to regroup, and firstly, stop reading Richard Feynman in the bathroom. Next, I need to reorder that basil pesto sauce, along with a few other healthy foods, and this time, I should manage to not lose them. I need to focus heavily on mental and physical recovery to avoid accidentally burning down my apartment.

Maybe I need to get a hair cut too. But I am too exhausted for that, and to be honest, I don’t have the heart to tear down the home of those imaginary pigeons living on my head.