Power Shortage

I'm seriously on a power shortage. Typically, I'm rather hyper and active, even though I'm still lazy when it comes to working, but now I'm just really tired. I didn't even feel like blogging right now. But because of a random impulse to, I'm here typing. Well, it's not like you can completely blame me, cross country is pretty exhausting. Anyone who doesn't think so must not be trying hard enough. I come home, take a shower sometimes, then I go on the computer until my eyes are threatening to close on me for the next few hours, and I toss myself onto my bed and let them. I snooze for a few hours until around 1PM, usually, and I eat lunch. I watch anime on my computer as I'm eating, then I watch more anime when I'm done eating. Then I go back to sleep sometimes and don't wake up until dinner. This is becoming a hazardous lifestyle. It's unhealthy and I'm going to put on excess fat that I burned off in cross country. Basically what I'm doing is making my hard work in vain. I'm very grateful today is Friday. I can sleep in tomorrow and go to art class that allows me to just sit there for two hours and stare at my painting that I've been working on for the past four weeks, which is four days in total, since I only have class once a week. Normally it takes me only one day to finish a painting, but this one's bigger than the rest of them. I'll try to post a picture of it tomorrow. If I finish it that is. I should. I only have a few more flowers to paint and add some more details.
Putting that aside, I'll talk about my day today. It was another fun day at cross country like that blob game we were playing on Wednesday. Today was foccer, a game where we play football and soccer on the same field, at the same time. There was a frisbee in there too, being thrown around. Of course you don't have to play football, you can play soccer, vice versa, or play frisbee. The point was to just keep moving and enjoy yourself in the chaos. I thought it was pretty fun. I was just running after soccer balls that was impossible for me to catch up with and meaninglessly kicking out my legs while attempting to steal the ball. It didn't work out very well. Near the end of the game, I saw a soccer ball rolling past by a distance away, so I started to run after it. Then for a moment, I thought that I was in a dream. During that time I kind of felt like I wasn't there, like my mind blanked out. Then I suddenly realized that my face was way too close to the grass and put my hands in front of me, but I was too late to save myself. My hands were a little scuffed and the skin on the hill of my palm peeled off a bit. Except my knee was a different story. If I look at it now, there actually isn't any huge open wound or a huge part of skin was scrapped off. There's just a few small cuts, but half of my kneecap is pinkish-red, and it really, really hurts. It didn't feel as bad as before. The cross country coach dabbed some disinfectant on my knee and I stuck on the bandage my friend, Susan, got me, then I was all good to go. I left for a few minutes from blogging to go shower, and I admit, my knee didn't hurt that much as I thought it would. It did sting a little from the water, but I think that's because the biggest wound didn't close completely yet. Thankfully there isn't cross country tomorrow, because I don't think I'd want to run on my knee. I'm being a little dramatic about my little injury, but it hurts, and that's all it takes to makes me want to chicken out of practice.
Well, I talked about the future, I talked about the present, now it's time to talk about the past. Yesterday night, after staying with us for a year, my grandmother left to go back to China. I'm sad to say that I wasn't all that sad about her leaving. That's a really cold thing to say or even think. It's not like I know for certain when's the next time I'll be able to see her again. My grandfathers already died, I'm a little concerned about when my grandmothers' time is going to come. More importantly, she's family and it's not like she's ever been mean to me. I suppose I'm just a jerk like that. I'm just an unfeeling boulder that never visited her even though her room was right next door, and I never talked to her even though I said I would. There was no difference from when she was on the other side of the world. Let me talk about my grandmother for a moment. She's a short, nice, little woman. However, certain things she does annoys me without me having to think about it. Everytime I come home she'd walk out of her room and say, "You came back?" In Chinese, of course, and I'm not sure about my translationg, but it was something along that line. For some reason, after a while, it just kind of ticked off something in my mind and I was tempted to say, "Who else would it be? Dad doesn't come back until four, and Joy doesn't live here anymore." Somehow I'd hold in the nasty words and my anger would go away. But just those small acts of kindess annoyed me, and that worries me. Am I going to be this irritable person forever who gets mad at things people do, even if it was out of goodwill? Am I just going to be an uncaring person for people and never realize how much I want their company until they're gone? I'd like to blame that I can't communicate with my relatives, but I think that's just an excuse I'm pulling up to make myself sound less like a jerk. Except it is true though, my Chinese is really bad. I'm in Chinese AP in my Chinese school--I think my teachers are just too nice and letting me pass--but it doesn't change the fact that, in real life, my Chinese is low-class. I can't even understand my parents when they're talking at dinner because they're speaking way too fast and I don't know half the words they are saying. I can get a general idea what they're talking about, but I miss out on all the details, and they get annoyed if I ask them to tell me what's happening in English. I'm saying all this and complaining, but really, it's still all my fault. I don't study for Chinese school or anything, I don't practice my vocabulary or anything. Everything I learn, I give it back to the teacher (a Chinese proverb). I seriously disappoint myself sometimes. When I was a small child, I used to cry and worry that when my parents get old, like into their 60's or 70's, that they'd forget how to speak English. I know this sounds ridiculous, but it's true. You know how people get old and forget things, well, I thought since my parents aren't all that great in English (even though, I've learned in the past few years my father's pretty good in English; he used to help my sister write her first-rate essays for college) that they'd forget how to speak English and I wouldn't be able to talk to them anymore. At that time, I worked harder in Chinese school because I thought that if my parents forgot how to speak English, I'd just learn Chinese. What happened to that child, I wonder? Who am I now? A nasty, lazy bum who may have better common sense, but I feel like I was a better person when I was ignorant, innocent, and hard-working. I sometimes look at my pictures hanging on the wall, where I was still in elementary school. I know now that I wasn't a nice person, being a bully and all, but I used to be a person who was decently happy with herself. I was stupid and mean, but I used to be glad to be me. I'd have those moments where I'd wish I'd disappear, like in band, I really don't want to talk about that right now, but out on the playground, even though I was lonely, even though people didn't like me, I was proud to be who I was. Now, I don't even want to look at myself in the mirror. I disgust myself so much with my habits that I fail to change, even though I realized my faults years ago.