A miracle happened. I cleaned my room for 60 minutes today. I woke up at 5:30, thinking it was too early to start the day. But what if I did anyway? Start my day?

So, I did. I did my laundry, cleaned my room, wiped my floor. I did everything people are supposed to do. It was refreshing. Can I do this every day? I mean, I will have so much time to do the things I love if I can finish errands this quickly.

And work. I always have work to do. But it’s a joy, so I don’t mind. The only problem is that I don’t get to do what I truly care for. Because what I truly care for has no value in this society.

Today, I met a boy. I don’t know exactly why, but I like him very much. He’s always fidgeting, as if he’s nervous. Sometimes he looks disappointed, but it doesn’t bother me. Maybe he’s sensitive enough to feel constantly judged. He’s trying to resist that, and I respect him for it.

Let’s retaliate, together. We are accomplices. But I doubt he feels the same.

After that, I met an older man. We’ve been working together for more than two years. At first, I didn’t understand why he wanted to work with me. I’m still not sure, but I’m glad he did.

“I see that the more I suffer, the more you feel excited,” he said.

I laughed. It was true. I felt a clear joy in seeing him complain about the hardship I was giving him. But he understood that I wasn’t doing it out of malice. Hardship reminds us that we still have something to overcome, no matter how competent we seem on the surface. There is still a way to grow. And growing gives us joy.