Busy

Ever since I started uni, I’ve been finding myself saying the same sentence over and over again– “I’m busy.”

When I’m swarmed with papers to write, scripts to memorise, rehearsals to attend, exams to cram for–“I’m busy.”

But now that we’re in the midst of winter break, I still find myself saying those two little words, accompanied by a throbbing migraine and a few hundred things to cross off my to do list.

Today was no exception. As I pushed past the glass door and stepped into Starbucks, desperate for a shelter from the frosty New York air, I couldn’t help but feel more stressed than ever. Hugging my notebook and iPad to my chest, I surveyed the room for a familiar bush of red hair. A small smile stretched across my lip as I spotted my sisters and joined them at their table.

“Hey!” they greeted me simultaneously.

“Hiiii!” I greeted back, semi-exaggerating my excitement.

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After settling down with our hot drinks cupped in our hands and trading calorie talk for small talk and the typical holiday-season ‘how are you’s and ‘you’ve lost weight’s, we found ourselves still in the unavoidable vortex that is awkward silence.

“GoshIcan’tbelivewehavetodthis,” Jamie sighed after a few almost-silent minutes of tapping our nails against our cup and checking our phones by the second. Ryan and I responded with a series of sighs.

“But we have to…” Ryan whispered to herself.

“Why should we?” Jamie mumbled, rubbing her temples.

“You know exactly why,” Ryan retorted with a raised eyebrow.

“Guys, come on,” I urged, “Mom has been throwing New Year Yves for… her whole career. We can’t let her streak end because she’s too sick to throw it.”

“But why us? She has a whole team of assistants and event managers!”

“Because, dear old sister,” Ryan started, her patience shrinking, “if we don’t, Dad will swoop in, and God knows what he has up his sleeve.”

Jamie sighed in response. She was still in denial, still holding onto the hope that the dad who brought her presents was still there. She screamed and shook her head when we told her about the vial, but she eventually came around. At this moment, I was grateful that she was sitting with us on the same table.

We promised Mom that we were gonna try our best to make sure this New Year’s Yves is just as extravagant as the previous ones, holding true Marvil essence. But to do that, we needed to get all the three Marvil girls together. Needless to say, the pressure was driving me crazy. Planning, colour schemes, themes, food.. the list’s endless.

“Okay,” I clicked my pen, breaking the tension, “any ideas?”

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Scribbles Sections

OH MY GOODNESS THIS POST WAS SHEER TORTURE TO WRITE! I have the worst case of writer’s block and no matter how hard I scratched my head, I could barely tap the right keys to form a semi-coherent sentence. Sorry if this isn’t up to my normal standard, I just needed to publish it and move on, otherwise I would’ve dwelled on this forever.

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RDM

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