Another thing I realized when living alone. The thing I was fearing.

Becoming sick, when you’re by yourself.

You’re bedridden and you can’t get up, you’re hot, sweaty, eyes tearing, head pounding and you still have to get up in the morning to make yourself a cup of tea. I basically spent the last two days rolling around in bed because I couldn’t do it myself.

If it wasn’t for my floormates I think I would’ve camped out in my room, with chips and hot water. I got food without leaving my room, warm honey water, and lotion, soft tissues.

Even though I still feel pretty bad, and miss having my mother take care of me, I think this is another milestone that one has to cross as they grow up. Who wants to be under their mother’s/father’s wing, and who really is going to run home the moment they get the sniffles.

My mother called and asked how I was, and mocked me if I wanted to come home, and when I said no, she said good, if you’re gonna be on your own, you have to do it right. (though she did keep texting/calling to see how I was.)
I’m sure it’s much harder on them then it is for me. But at the end of the day, you have to get up and take care of yourself.

Mother does.


I have a huge fear of bees/wasps!

I’ve never been stung by one and I don’t wanna start now.

Growing up I was a princess; I couldn’t help it. I grew up in a suburban city, there were no scary bugs and snakes and such. Mosquitoes came in the summer, worms in the spring, and practically nothing in autumn and fall.

But my Mother on the other hand, grew in South Asia. Oh where all them creatures are, snakes, insects, moths, things that bite you, things that are poisonous etc. So my mother also being a princess, it was  her mother (my grandmother) that had to kill all the little demons that sneaked into the house.

And so today, I ended up leaving the front door a tad bit open and a wasp flew into the house. Being a little pansy that I was I started flailing my arms running for me very life. Of course calling my mother to help me. She walks into the living room (like a boss might I say) with a fly swatter and a dustpan and smushes the wasp against the window. She picks it up with her dustpan and walks to the front door while she was accusing of letting the wasp in the house in the first place.

When she came back inside, she said

“Once you turn into a mother, you have to forget all the fears you have, because you’re not protecting yourself anymore. You’re protecting your children”. 

That struck a cord with me because, I’m afraid of all insects that fly, so will there be a day where I’m the one running to kill these little monsters for my children?