I am unusually tired. I have not been sleeping well due to night sweats due to me trying to find a less expensive way to regulate my hormones. Turns out, it can’t be done! After washing the sheets and the duvet like 3 times in a row I finally slept on the couch last night, to save the bed being drenched yet again. Of course, I did not have a sweat last night, who knows why. And the dog was a terrible sleeping companion. Mr. Fidgets! What the fuck is his problem? Plus he’s too dirty and he put his sick feet all over my face and it stressed me out, and he decided to take a bath in the middle of the night and so I shoved him onto the floor with hatefulness.
My grading is finally done so this weekend I have very little to do. I am going to rest, clean, do my sad pathetic exercises, and read a ton of these books I checked out from the library forever ago. I am also going to play Zelda, see an old pal who’s visiting our fair city, and go to my parents’ house for dinner. I will also watch this weird movie Rebecca sent me about a boy who is obsessed with a doll his dad made. Oh boy how great ’twill truly be.
Even I am surprised by how utterly ambivalent I feel about the prospect of ever seeing “Lincoln.”
There is leftover lasagna in my home.
I did not get a job this year and I feel like there’s something wrong with me that I can’t see, which is a terrible feeling. I need someone to describe the shilling-sized patch on the back of my head that no mirror can ever show me (V. Woolf). Please don’t say “bigger boobs”
There is so much I don’t understand. There is so much I want to know and do! Will I ever become fluent in French? It’s something I long for, yet make no effort toward. What is that about. And I keep thinking I will finally get a job and a house and a piano and money for piano lessons and that doesn’t happen either. Some stuff you look forward to actually happens and other stuff doesn’t. Fits and starts, just like social progress!
Isn’t it weird that underneath your skin you’re a skeleton