When the last straw hit my back...

This whole week long, I've slept for six hours or less.  Mostly less.  Wait, I know for sure it's less and they were not good, quality sleep either.   I usually catch up some sleep over the weekend, but last Sunday I woke up even earlier to go to Madura with Ming.  I didn't regret that, but I realize it's probably not the best decision, since I know I'd be paying for it all week long.  

Yesterday was the worst.

I couldn't sleep last night.  

The whole day yesterday I was physically exhausted, and I thought I'd go home early and take a nap.  My eyes were shut, but I didn't really drift off to sleep.  I was beyond annoyed when the maid woke me up with loud knock for a phone call.  

Failed to take a nap, I tried reading, watching TV, and still I couldn't sleep.  I was tense for no reason at all.  Past midnight, I took two Panadol pills.  After an hour, I still couldn't sleep, so I took another one.  It still eluded me.  

I think I fell asleep around 1:18 am, or at least that's what the clock showing when I last glanced at it.  I woke up at 5:30 am and tried to sleep again but couldn't.  So I just lied down until 6:15am, when the alarm went off.

I was tired and stressed out.  Ten minutes before I fell asleep, after Ming refused to help me out and preferred other activities, I naturally picked up fight with him.  I said whatever it was that popped in my mind, my sleep-deprived, exhausted, stressed out mind, and I put no filter in it.  

I probably said some ugly, hurtful things, but even now I have to say that they were honest.  I didn't re-phrase it to make it politically correct, I didn't soften it to avoid hurting other people, and I didn't stop and wonder if I should say it or not, just in case I didn't feel the same way the following morning.

It was liberating.  For the first time in a very long while, I'm being honest about how I really feel, and I said what I want to say, when I want to say it.  I don't regret it and I won't be apologetic about it, and I certainly will not be made to feel bad about it.  

This morning, I woke up and did not feel slightly better.  The things I said are honest, but truth can be painful, and even after closing that can of worms, you can't get rid of the smell and it can still haunt you.  

I'm sorry that your life is miserable, Ming said just before we sleep, and he wasn't being nice and sympathetic.  Tell me about it, was my response, not giving a fuck about the dripping bitterness of his words.  

To his credit though, this morning when he woke up, instead of being emotionally unavailable like I predicted he would be, instead of being cold and distant like he usually did after a fight, instead of trying to point out how crazy I acted, how delusional I was, how insignificant the things I felt like I have anticipated, instead of all that, he came up from behind me, and merely gave me a big, warm hug and kissed my shoulder.  

It was one small act that divert a full blown war of the worlds I was preparing myself into.  And I don't think he even realizes it.  

This morning as I talked to some people at work, I complained about my sleepless night and my exhaustion.  I secretly felt bitter because people who work for me can just take day off if they didn't feel well, but me, the supposed future owner blah blah blah, is stuck at work no matter how bad I feel, no matter how sick I was.  See, when it comes to being the supposed future owner, I have "obligations and responsibilites" that I must learn to handle, funny how easy the higher authority dismissed any mention of privilege or perks.  Free rent and fancy ride are my perks.  Utilities and maintenance, we still have to cover.

Anyway, as I was saying, I was talking to my staffs this morning, and for some reasons we started talking about this one woman that I don't even know personally, but know about her.

When she was younger, her parents passed away.  Her older brother adopted the role of her parents, then he passed away too.  She got married, and have five kids.  FIVE.  The younger one was still a toddler when her husband passed away too.

Even when her husband was still alive, she's used to take care of everything: when the roof of her house gave way, she called the maintenance people, mixed the cement herself and didn't hesitate to climb on the roof to fix it.  She used motorcycle to drive her three kids to school, to pick them up and took them to extra curricular activities.  She baked cakes herself to give away to other people for her children's first month celebration.  

She is the true wonder woman.

Suddenly I realized something, a truth that is more honest than everything I've said last night: That I need to shut up about not being able to sleep to my co-workers.