Every morning, I sit on the bus to go to work as the sun gleams onto my face through the windows. Every day, I go through the motions of work, social interactions with coworkers, 3D printing random things. Every evening, I commute to the gym and do my usual workout, sometimes with a friend and sometimes alone. Every night, I unwind from the day as the cold settling in and the night's darkness dissuades me from going out and doing more.
And it doesn't make sense to me - what makes people always say that the meaning of life is in the small things? I can't shake the feeling that everyone keeps searching for significance in their lives while wanting instant gratification. My daily life resembles monochromatic waves that sweep me through the days and weeks, as I try to find some form of meaning to latch onto.
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The beginning of my time here was nothing but cloudy eyes and an engulfed mind as I try to search for a way out of it. I've been trying to amass a feeling of humanity beyond my labour, focusing on my individuality that's apart from my career and future. A byproduct of that is this listless cycle that has strung me into what feels like homogenous routines sprinkled with a growing relationship, a splash of new hobbies/interests alongside city activities, and a dash of entertaining, new friendships. Though, I fear of its ephemerality; these four months I'm here in Boston will soon enough be in the past.
Through the window of my office desk, the sky melts into a deeper shade of blue. My plans are dictated by the day I'm going through; I plan to print another part of my Catan mini-project before heading out to the gym, and the weather indicates a snowstorm hitting this weekend. How long will the snow last before it melts again? My thoughts and to do's can go on and on, but maybe the nature of my days being fleeting is supposed to be a degree of pleasure.
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