The Pressure of Being a Know-It-All

Araci Almeida
3 min readAug 9, 2022
Photo by Carl Heyerdahl on Unsplash

Another day of teaching. That’s my work. The day is not half over, and I’m overcome by tremendous tiredness.

I see my eyes in the camera I look at every day in this online world; they are red, with black bags under them. I have the sudden feeling of scratching them while at the same time concentrating on speaking good English while giving Portuguese lessons.

I know I am switching words and using ‘nice’ too often. But while the exhaustion is more than evident, I am already thinking about what I might do in my spare time.

Strangely, instead of dreaming of being still, relaxing, and resting, I :

  • feel the urge to pick up three or four books and finish them;
  • Or I plan on reflecting on an exciting topic, studying it, and writing about it here,
  • Or, if that doesn't work, I also want to go back to Greek classes or continue German lessons.

I finish the lessons, pick up the books, and open them all while I too open the computer to write words. Or I grab a notebook and a pen and start scribbling down topics and trying to write about one of them. I now have dozens of drafts here waiting to be finished.

This is all done with some YouTube video in the background, alternating with something funny and something more serious.

Suddenly my cat appears, jumps into my lap, or started scratching my office chair. It seems the animal wants to tell me something I should already know. Maybe she wants to tell me that it is time to cuddle her and forget about classes, about Medium, that although reading is good, sleep is also necessary.

But still, I remain sleepy, staring at the screen that displays a flashing bar that waits for my written words.

I wanted to write about the Chinese social credit system; I wanted to continue writing the book about the Portuguese language that I’ve been writing; I wanted to write and read something interesting here on Medium or in the two magazines about politics that I bought yesterday.

My cat is now climbing on my desk, looking at me, and putting her little paw in my hand. I close everything, go to the living room, lie on the sofa holding her and close my eyes.

Araci Almeida

9 Times Top Writer. Writing about Portugal and the Portuguese language; Pop Culture; Politics, and Power.