I Am Going to Lose Weight…the Correct Way

At 9 years old I walked into a tailor’s shop. I’d done this many times in my life. (My family has always had clothing made. I never knew how much it made life simpler for someone like me with larger than life hips.) But this was different. It was my first graduation. A primary school graduation, rather pointless but still somehow important. A month before, the measurements for the dress had been taken and we were here to try on the dress and make small adjustments if necessary. But as I stood there, I could get the dress on. It turned out that I had stacked on about 9 kilograms. That big of an adjustment could not have been made. I decided to lose the weight. I had two weeks before the graduation. I lost the weight by going on a diet for the first time. The diet was me eating as little as was possible and drinking a lot of tea at night to combat the effects of not eating. I was successful but that opened the door to me using this method for most of my life.

At 16 years old I decided that I liked the way my body looked, checked my weight and made a promise to maintain that weight indefinitely. I was about 80 kilograms. I was successful for quite sometime. Since 9 years old, whenever I focused on my weight I would visit the scale multiple times of the day. I could tell you what I weight before eating, immediately after eating, and after a meal had been digested. I was on the scale a lot. I got rather relaxed about my weight at 18 years old because I’d partnered with my boyfriend on a business venture which required me to walk most of the day. After I pulled out I realized that I was almost 90 kilograms. I immediately went on a diet, and since I didn’t have a job or anything else to do. I resigned myself to eating one pack of noodle per day and Lying in bed. I lost the weight. But I wasn’t trying to fight the effects of not eating. I wasn’t drinking tea or water for that matter. When I tried standing to go to the bathroom I would blackout for a short while. Luckily the room is set up in a way that allowed me to not get hurt when I fell. It was a small room. When I got to 72 kilograms my mom said that it was too much. I stepped on the scale and thought I was fine. So, I began eating again but was cautious about my weight gain. I was able to keep my weight at 80 kilograms for several years after that. Until last year to be specific.

I was doing the old eat a lot but only when I feel as though I’ve been duly starved which means I would skip a few days. And then last year happened. I stayed with some friends in a village outside of Tomsk. I was fed extremely well. But as I worked on an overdue project I didn’t do anything else. In other words, my days were eating, and sitting before my laptop writing and editing articles, creating, editing, throwing out, and executing ideas. In that time I manage to get to the 90-kilogram-mark again. But I’d learned that whenever I thought I was fat I would subconsciously begin dieting or starving myself. So I didn’t think about it. I made an effort not to think about myself in that way. I thought that I would lose the weight by simply returning to my regular routine, which is eating irregularly.  But after a years, I’m still at the same place. I walk irregularly as well but that hasn’t help.

When I returned home this year I had a talk with a cousin who focuses a lot of her body, and we broached the topic of me not wanting to lose weight but rather to gain muscle. And it was noted that one weighs more than the other. Now, being weighty with muscle is good. But I would rather weigh less.

So I’ve decided to lose weight. It will and already is a challenge. Simply eating breakfast is a challenge. Honestly eating in general is. I generally don’t fee like it these days. And when I do I want healthy option  but you have to make those for yourself because people like meat, and a lot of oil and sugar in their food and it’s basically impossible to find place that delivers food that checks every box, and then that makes me also not want to eat. So I have to cook… I like cooking…alone…with no one around…in an extremely clean environment. I live in a dormitory. Where is this magically going to appear? It’s not…but I’ll find a way because I’ve only got until December 28, 2018.

The food isn’t all though. I’m not that motivated to workout because my energy and motivation are both low most likely due to my lack of nutrient-intake. But I’ll work on it. I also get bored easily. I worked out with weight for three months and got bored. So I’ll have to find engaging activities to keep me going.

I want to do this. I am finding it difficult to visualize. But I am moving forward nonetheless.

Tips and tricks are welcomed.


A Taste of Russia

taken from livestrong.com
Food is one of my favourite ways of experiencing the cultures of others. At times it can be the most potent aspect of a country or city. While learning about about different countries, and their languages, food is always on the table, because it’s just that important. So when I decided to learn more about Korea, I took to their cuisine. I tried Korean cold noodle soup, kimchi, and kimbap. I made pickled radish, bought canned chili tuna, and even pre-packaged black bean noodles. I’m a little adventurous. So when I realized I would be going to Russia I became excited about the opportunity to have a go at Russia by food. But I’m Caribbean, and more so, Antiguan so I thought the best place to start would be asking Antiguans who’d already had, and were living through this opportunity.

“I only eat their KFC.”
But that’s not Russian food, I thought. And I asked again and got “I don’t like their food.” What? Was this going to be me too? Would I be living in a country for five years and not be able to share the gift of food between us? Would I be living in Russia, but outside of the culture?

I got to Russia. And I again the international students about the food. They too were living on the ‘safe’ side?
A Columbian would try authentic foods from China, Vietnam, Mongolia, Japan, Africa, Spain, Antigua, and Venezuela but never taste Russia. All these foods sound amazing. They are! But I came to Russia to experience it in its fullness, so I decided to taste Russia for myself.

Food, is edible art.
Sitting in Krasnoyarsk, Russia I pushed a forkful of mashed potatoes into my mouth. Before tasting it I knew it would be different simply by sight, because it was puree, pureed potato. How could this thing be so thin? Was this for real? Of course it was. But where Antigua says add a little milk and mash, Russia says add a lot of milk and blend until smooth, and then add more milk. This is my understanding from having eaten “mashed” potatoes in various Russian canteens.

But the creamy white potatoes tasted like home. I could even taste…a little garlic? I ate other mouthful. There it was again, garlic. I cut in the meat patty anxious to know if it was just the potaotes that would be similar. It was a tasty, homemade, chicken patty. But beyond that nothing stood out. Where was all the fear-inspiring difference. I hadn’t found any and I was ready to begin my journey into the world of Russian foods.

Across the distance
Russian food is like any. How it tastes depends on who cooks it, how they’ve cooked it, and at times, your mood towards both. I’ve eaten in canteens, restauants, from supermarkets, at church events, and in the homes of friends. The distance between these varying artsists is wide, but the artists remain apart of the world of Russian cuisine. I will try to showcase the similarities, and difference in Antiguan and Russian cuisine.

The main similarities between Antiguan and Russian cuisines are the seasonings. Among the seasonings used in Russian cuisine are: garlic; parsley; dill; bay leaf; black pepper; and cloves. These are also typical seasonings used in many Antiguan dishes. These seasonings make many of the Russian dishes seem more acceptable, less like new dishes and more like acquaintances. Russian cuisine also makes use of spices such as ginger, coriander, cinnamon, saffron, and myrtle grass. These are known but aren’t used as much in Antiguan cuisine.

The Russian drink, comport, is also made using heat and is a lot like the process for making tamarind juice, if you do so by boiling that is. The difference is that tamarind isn’t the fruit being used. Instead there are a whole host of others including apples, peach, and berries. In canteens and restaurants the juice is served without the fruit, in homes and at some events they swim around in your cup or glass and you can eat them or leave them.

Sweet things
After moving to Russia I decided to cut meat, oil, salt, and sugar from my diet. I was eating raw salad, fruits, healthy soups, and feeling quite good about myself. I would eat out occasionally but these now and then bits didn’t affect my eating plan. And then I was introduced to Russian pastries.

These fantastic dough purses were stuffed with fruits, thickened sweet milk, and jams. The textures varies greatly from crispy, to flaky, to cloud-like fluffy. This is where my no-sugar rule bent and eventually broke. I began with one pastry every Friday, then two every Friday, then a bag every Friday, then a bag every Friday with a box of juice. Friday moved and I haven’t really seen its borders since. I try to resist sugar in my tea when I can…and it works sometimes. But I have no problems with pastries. I eat them.

There are also a host of traditional Russian sweet breads and biscuits, buns, and, candies, marshmallows, jams, and halvah too. I eat these with delight too. The familiarity of these sweet and salty foods allowed me to feel more at ease in experiencing the new, and there have been many.

The differences
I’m still hungry.
The main difference you’ll probably notice in Russian cuisine is that the foods are much lighter and the servings are smaller. Dumplings filled with potatoes and meat, or vegetable sounds like a more filling all-in-one. But these morsels boiled, fried, or baked are just morsels, and one must eat quite a few, i.e. twenty or more, whereas three or four white dumplings will fill an average person. The soups are tasty but also light. They contain carrots, cabbage, potatoes and such but no dumplings or flour components.

Bread is a constant on the Russian table, at every meal. This includes breakfast where porridge maybe the main. If there’s no bread on the table someone will be sent or volunteer to buy it. This can be considered as the flour accompaniment. At first, I thought it was a little outrageous. At first I didn’t touch, and outrightly refused it. And then I gave in for the sake of politeness, only eating it by itself. And finally I’ve become accustomed to it. I expect bread on the table. I’ll help slice it as well, because I eat it with my meal, shoving a piece of bread into my mouth right after a spoonful of almost anything. And the truth is, it doesn’t taste bad once you’ve got a tasty bread.

But don’t assume that every Russian eats bread at every meal. Many Russians do, and some don’t, some may even voice a dislike of bread. Nonetheless it will be placed on the table for those interested, and you may even be encouraged to take a slice.

What with what?
One of my favourite food combinations is Russian sour cream, Smetana, with everything. This sounds strange and it is. Why would I put Smetana in the chicken soup? Why would I put it in any soup really?

Smetana is milk but slightly thicker with a somewhat sour bite. So again, why would I pour milk in my soup? I wouldn’t. But as I sat at this family’s table and stared back at the two small girls (3 and 7 years old) and their parents, whose united expressions were a mixture of politeness and shock due to my eating the soup without Smetana I decided I would try it.

I spoon a little into my soup from the bowl which sat in the middle of the table. I look at the little girl to my left. She looked back at me and then silently directed me to mix the Smetana into the soup as she did. I followed, and smiled at her, cleared my mind and lifted the full spoon to my mouth. It was delicious.

Of course the taste had been changed but it wasn’t for the worst. Today, once I have the opportunity, I eat half of my soup first and then spoon and mix Smetana into the second have. It comes close to eating two dishes at once.

Beetroot is one of the most used roots across Russia. It can be found in salads with cucumbers and dill, and herring, and soups with carrots and tomatoes.

You’ve mostly likely heard of borsch, one of the most well-known Russian soups, but perhaps you’ve never thought of making it yourself. It is a light soup which utilizes beetroot as its main ingredient. The rich red colour of the beetroot makes it one of the brightest dishes I’ve encountered, and the sprinkling of fresh parsley on the surface, makes it look like Christmas in your bowl. It is a good introduction to russian cuisine, so I’ve decide to share the recipe, which you can find at the end of this article.

There are also new food combinations like a salad of herring and layered, boiled vegetables, called herring under a fur coat. I was very displeased to find out that I would have to fight with the bones in this fish while eating my salad at a New Year’s dinner. I was even more shocked to find out that the top layer was of grated beetroot mixed with Smetana.

How it’s done
Sometimes as with the mashed potatoes, the difference lies in the technique or even the length of time food items are cooked. In other words, two soups could be made with the same ingredients using the same instructions, and still be of different textural quality due to the length of time they remained on the fire. In general vegetables in Russian soups are soft while those in Antiguan soups require the use of teeth.

Both cuisines make use of boiled dumplings. The taste and texture are far a part. A dumpling in Antiguan cuisine is heavy and flour-packed, in Russian cuisine it is a thin layer of flour wrapped around a tablespoon of filling, be it potato or meat. In Russian cuisine, dumplings can be served as a solo dish and also with meat and other vegetables.

We eat with our eyes
Before eating Antiguans critically assess dishes, and therefore also try to display the food in a manner that would tease the palate. To do this various colours can be noted, and a lack of colour in dishes are usually a minus. Russians eaters seem much less concerned about this aspect. I ate a dish yesterday which comprised entirely off white ingredients, spaghetti, potato and fish. It’s not an official dish, just something thrown together to make a meal. But where many Antiguans would add a carrot, or some other anything the lack of colour is acceptable for a Russian. But its addition is noted by Russians, when it is present, and sometimes praised.

Embracing it all
These differences and similarities together have made the experience of Russia by food a more intriguing one. It has been fun eating borsch, a soup starring a vegetable, I detest and never thought I’d eat willingly, and herring under a fur coat, which includes beet yet again was another tasty surprise.

Throughout all of my firsts I was confident because of the shared seasonings. I knew that there would always be a similarity to the food I call my own, even if the similarities were, at times, fleeting. And I have been pleased to find it so. By using the commonalities between our cuisines I’ve been able to experience more of the Russian culture.

I’m Human Too It Seems

Sometime ago I realized that my leaving home has allowed me to grow a lot more than I thought or even dreamed. I am a big girl. I’m tall. I am also bigger than your typical model, or actress, which if I’m honest says nothing really. Those gals are petite. I am 5′ 9″ (179cm) and 196lbs (89kg). As such a mammoth being, which is how I felt due to my thighs being referred to as elephants, pythons, big things, huge, and massive, I was restricted from doing certain things, and expected to do others. The bigger you are, the stronger you’re expected to be.

For me this translated as being more masculine. Because I’d be expected to help out where others of the same gender and age were allowed to stand aside. I wasn’t offered the same kindnesses, because it was expected that I already had a handle on whatever I was supposed to do. I grew into this role, and generally don’t expect anyone do anything for me, and I also feel uncomfortable when someone tries to help me. It just feels unnatural…like having someone open a door for me causes a slight crawling in my skin. It’s not fear. It’s just discomfort. The discomfort has reduced to a slight crawling in my skin, before it was something else. I would hold the door for myself despite the person holding the door for me. I also felt insulted as wondered if the person thought I was weaker. So I’m making progress.

My size doesn’t come in cute either. In my world if you’re big, then you can’t be cute. You can only hold the title of “trying to be cute”. I got that a lot. But in Asian countries and those nearby “cute” doesn’t have that close of a connotative reference to “small”. Because of this I’ve been called “cute”. My actions, my words, the small things I do are freely described as “cute”. No one cares that I’m usually a tower in comparison to them, and carrying more girth. That for me is really freeing. I get to be weird…different in my own way. I get to be me. I get to create who I want to be because there is space to push in all directions. Because of this I’ve let more of myself out into the world. I’ve let more of more “cute” out of the doors. I’ve let my laughter be. I’ve allowed my humour to develop. Not everybody gets it. But that’s not the point. The point is that I’m allowed to make the path I’d like.

This freedom has given me a way to be my authentic self. There are no templates or set molds. I just do me, and whatever I do will be labelled as me, not as something that people with my characteristics share. I like that. Along with the freedom has come peace which has inspired me to become less angry and more open-hearted to others who I had damned to eternal indifference. It’s amazing how much this has changed me. To be honest it has left me with that feeling of just being human, not being a cute, mammoth, black, humourous, or any other type of human. I just feel human, and more accepting of others, and that for me is interesting but odd. I thought getting freedom would mean feeling more me, more individual. But some how by becoming more me, and happier I’ve come closer to the collective.

My Spirit Is Waking Up

I’ve been living a rather sheltered life. I was born on an island which is predominantly black. There are things which it lacks, like Whites looking down on Blacks, and extreme financial divides between social classes. To be honest I wouldn’t really say we have classes. There’s a general co-existence between everyone. Some might even say that everyone exist on a level which would be remiscient of the “middle class” in class-divided countries. So I never felt inferior to another race. I didn’t feel beautiful but I didn’t feel less than anyone due to the colour of my skin. My family includes persons of various shades. And each of us were treated the same.

However, as the world becomes more divided I’ve noted more and more people become lightere and lighter. My little brother’s experience is the climax for me. He comes home with stories of people telling him he’s dirty or that he’s ugly because he has very dark skin. I hadn’t realized that in our society people were so outrightly vocal about their dislike. He was still rather young when it began and I decide that I would do a project focusing on persons with darker skin, showing their beauty and renting billboards. The renting of billboards would be too expensive so I was searching for a better way that would get reach the widest audience in Antigua. I got sidetracked and the project lagged, and then I moved to Russia.

Today while I was on Facebook I saw a post by BBC in which a female Belgian news reporter spoke of her experience of people sending hate-filled messages about her skin tone. She isn’t as dark as my little brother. And that got me thinking about how he might be feeling, and how others like him might be feeling. There are many good role models like Viola Davis and younger ones too. But I want it is still not enough. So I’ve been inspired to go back to the drawing board and make that project come to fruition before the end of the year. I have an Antiguan photographer in mind, Chavel Thomas. I actually just bought his book tonight and the images he’s done shine through with the beauty I want portrayed. However, his book includes nudity that might not be accepted by a lot of peple and that was his focus.


taken from shopdotkidartexposed.com


I also considered doing it myself, but I’m not sure if I’d be the best person. I do have some training in photography. But that isn’t my forte. Additionally, Chavel has a following that could push the project if…when…it’s completed. And I consider that a really big plus. I don’t want to have to show my brother. I want it to be in his face. I want him to feel loved. I want the people around him to feel bombarded by image of beautiful dark skin models living life…beautifully.

Yeah. That’s it.

Settling: The Russian Leg

I woke this morning, and immediately before getting out of bed I began thinking about yesterday’s post only to realize that I hadn’t written anything. There’s no fixing yesterday, but here I am ensuring that today. Today was one of those days where I felt too low to do anything. I got two things done. I printed this weeks’s lectures, most of them, tooks a shower, ate, and used most of the day to do what should take the maximum of one hour. I wasn’t in the mood to move or write, or eat, or do anything. So… it was… a day.

As I sat to write, I didn’t quite know what to do because I’d prefer not boring you. So I went into my archive and pulled out the continuation of my Getting to Russia series. And then I realized I wasn’t not in the mood to edit. So I edited it. This amazed me because editing work I’ve already done isn’t usually something that I do with pleasure. But this time it was. Maybe the next time I’m feeling down, I’ll edit…

Without further ado here are the previous post:

Getting To Russia: Leaving Home Pt.1

Getting to Russia: Leaving Home Pt.2

Getting to Russia: London

Getting a Dorm: The Russian Leg

I hope this installment lives up to expectations (if there are any). Enjoy!


Settling: The Russian Leg

My trip from Antigua and Barbuda to Krasnoyarsk had lasted some twenty-five hours. And how I felt was tired, and dirty. I’d been going to and fro across the earth with temperatures with much distance between them according to my bodily thermometer. And I had managed to work up a sweat while hot and while cold as well. So it was time for a full-body cleanse. At this time I was happy for the forethought of my grandmother who had instructed that things for this purpose be kept near at hand, and also for the advice of other travel bloggers who had written advice about keeping them together. So in my anxious haste I was able to gather the tubes, jars, and cloths I needed and run into the cleaning half of the bathroom.

The Russian Bathroom

I say the cleansing section because in Russia, the more traditional homes have what I would define as two bathrooms. One section contains the toilet and is called a toilet(туалет > tualet). The other section contains the face basin and the shower. It is called washroom or bathroom(ванная > vannaya). Both section are separate from each other, two rooms. At first I thought it was a strange setup, not bad but different. After some time, I decide that it was a more efficient method. For a single-dwelling, it seems pointless. But in a home where multiple people exist at one time it is extremely useful. Someone who wants to relieve him or herself need not want on someone who is taking an extended shower, like myself.

Clean and Fed

I felt clean. And I was ready for anything. I felt new somehow. It was as though I had washed my old self off and had exited the bathroom. I walked around the dorm, getting accustomed to the space and the feel of it. I stared out at the world from the tenth floor. And then Jeremiah was at the door again. The Nigerian had ordered pizza, and was now delivering it. He handed it over to me, extended his services for future need, and then left. I wolfed it down. The sizeable slices of chicken, tomato, and olive on the thin layer of soft crust were delicious. There was cheese, of course. It was a pizza. But the thin, yummy crust and other components really engulfed my attention. Despite my hunger I took note of it all. I had never eaten a pizza with such a thin crust before, or with that many pieces of chicken, or with tomato. And I’ll tell you the tomato was one of the highlighted aspects, as its sour juiciness woke my taste buds, then mixed with the other flavours. This would become one of my go to meals when I felt low over the next eight months. I ate the soup as well, but I only remember that it was green, and not bad.

At this point, I was clean, fed, and happy. I went to sleep in comfort having called home to inform my mom that I was okay. I would get some sort of Internet connection later

Where Are My Skates?

I’m going to start some form of exercise…next week. Now, to be honest Physical Education starts next week but that’s not what I’m referring to. I want to be fit enough to skate. Yeah, you read that correctly.

The first time I went onto the ice I was so scared. I didn’t do anything. Well, I bent forward bent my knees and allowed myself to be pulled by the arms, and that was it. It was fun, and so scary. I vowed I would watch and never touch the ice again and I didn’t. That was in Krasnoyarsk. I watched others skate, I watched the rink get iced but I never went back onto the ice.

And then I met beautiful photographer, which is beside the point, but he was both and so it stands. He was in Tomsk, my new home at the time, with a reporter who was interviewing me. He was a young lad and we hit it off quite well…since he spoke English…very well. As I posed for a few shots he asked about the activities I’d done, and we came around to the issue of skating. I told him as decisively as I’ve just told you that I would never skate again. He and his brother have been avid (ice) hockey players from childhood. I respect this. It’s not just skating. It’s skating with speed, force, and enough control to stay on one’s feet wile doing other thing like knocking people over.

I explained my fear of falling. But I didn’t touch on my fear of looking stupid while falling;) Nonetheless, he replied that the whole point of skating was falling. (I feel as though I’ve told you this story already.) That was all he needed to say. I don’t kow why, but that convinced me there and then, and I got back on the ice. I’ve been on the ice once after that meeting and on that occassion I learned how to skate without holding onto anything. I didn’t move quickly at all, and I needed help turning around, but I felt and still do feel quite proud of myself.

I was in the process of making the decision to make a video of myself skating expertly, for my little brother but something came in the way. I think I thought he wouldn’t be that impressed so I squashed the idea. But this summer when I returned home. He mentioned how cool it was that I was in a place where I could skate. That’s as good as a request for a video of me skating expertly. Hence, I’ll be doing my utmost to get fit so that I can learn to skate better and better and better.

What I’m stuck on is the deadline for the video. I could be lazy and work towards my fitness goals while skating the entire of winter (6, 9 months) or I could work towards making the video for the end of November or December and do a quickie fitness and laze around for the remainder of winter. Or you could just keep working out? I get bored once working out becomes monotonous. I need serious motivation. So…

There are other things that I could use to motivate me like CrossFit and Yoga, and pole dancing. But those require money and people be watching all of my me jiggle, you know. So solo workout and a buddy-skating regime will just have to do it, for now at least.

But to be honest I am really trying to start on my young-looking 50-year-old body so I need to add something else that will help me through winter and into the warmer months when there are no free skating rinks.

Do you have any exercise motivation tips? What’s your go-to exercise regimen?

An Easy Taxing Day?

taken from www.workflexibility.org

I rolled out of bed with my alarm, an hour before my class. I showered, dressed, and caught the bus. Usually I take exactly an hour to shower and dress, but today I was able to get to my first class on time. It felt great. But…now…it feels terrible. My day is done…as it’s 2356 but I still have three days of poetry to write, this post to complete now that I’ve started it, that paper that I keep researching how to write but never actually write it. I found more info on writing case studies, by the way…useful stuff.

So I had a day. I completed two personal tasks, one professional task and attended two classes, and the second one was deep…so deep most of the class almost fell asleep. Our lecturer spoke too quickly and monotonously for them, and for me…there were simply too many unknown words. I kept hearing sentences for which I couldn’t grasp any familiar words or general thoughts because the preceding sentencing were also foreign. But I tried…to write what I thought I heard. What I wrote made no sense but the point wasn’t for it to make sense it was to keep me awake and listening. I stayed awake and I for the most part listened. Hence, mission accomplished.

I walked come which I’ve very proud of. I’m pleased that I wasn’t to tired or lazy to do so. I got some fruits. Fruits are the only things I can eat whenever. I start with a banana and I can eat any other fruit…I don’t know why, but I do know that they have been keeping me alive. If I didn’t have fruits I wouldn’t eat because my mind refuses to create the desire to eat even when I haven’t eaten in twelve hours. I also bought cucumbers and tomatoes as well to pair with the banana and mandarin in a smoothie.

Ewww! No. Toss four bananas into the blender if your squirmish about it and let’s say one tomato and one peeled cucumber. And tell me what you think after. You don’t need that many bananas. Four will really overpower everything but…you’re the newb;)

I began the process to apply to teach in South Korea, by that I mean I took the passport pictures the site said I need. There are other things which are more important but the passport photo is the only one I couldn’t do for myself. It’s nothing but since it’s been on my list for a week now, I think it deserved a mention. I got to the place on time, and because of this got to my last appointment of the day an hour early… Yep, an hour that I could have used to sleep. I contemplated that and realized that I would most likely be late if I slept so I forfeited sleep and sat in the waiting room and researched case studies.

And having done that I was so ready to start writing but…my appointment…so I did that, took care of buying face cream which also been on my list for a week and I returned home, and I thought to myself now having bought a broom also a week late I can’t be here in this filthy room anymore I must sweep so I drained the remaining energy I had by sweeping, and then I had surprise guests, and that was my day.

It doesn’t seem taxing there on the page. But trust me, it was.