...until I can.

Once again copying and pasting from an email.
(Sorry, sister. You give me too much fodder for your own reading pleasure.)


It's 9:23 pm.
Today was a wasted day, and wasted days depress me.
Most of the day, I was so frustrated I couldn't even cry. Or eat.


If I had the energy I would make a long gratitude list. Instead, I will just put down what would be on top of the list this evening.

My mom has a saying—any problem you can solve with money is not a problem. And today, thanks to a steady paycheck, money I had in my bank account saved my ass. I really have no problem to bitch about when you think about it.

Of course what's getting me down is less the money waste and more the time wasting and the spirit crushing.

Well.

I moved to the US to get the education I wanted; I got a huge amount of financial aid to do just that. Upon graduation, I CHOSE to live in the US; I wasn't seeking political asylum or running away from an abusive family member. I am not an illegal immigrant who can't make waves or even get simple healthcare with fear of getting busted and deported. I have shit loads of free will and agency. I really have no problem.

I have a place to sleep in tonight in Istanbul. A home. Not a problem.


I'm exhausted, yes. But I'm also grateful.




Some shit is so obvious it takes writing it down to realize what a luxury it is to be frustrated with the squeaky mechanics of my immigration process.