Not nearly the catharsis I was hoping for... I actually feel worse now.
My winter break project is to make my room live-able again. It started with putting together the clothing rack that Jason's dad and step-mother gave me for Christmas. While that has yet to actually do anything but add to the clutter, it will be a positive change. Especially once I add a few more plastic drawers to my collection and get rid of the old, ratchet-y dresser that makes my bed my own cozy private space.
My next project was to get rid of the four foot high stack of magazines that was piled on my floor and bookshelf. If Jason had had his way it would have been my first project, but he had to suffer it taking second place. Well I finished that today, having taken time to flip through them all and read the articles that actually held some interest to me and check back up on the fashions of summer 2004.
Through this I learned that by medical standards I am, in fact, underweight, which made me incredibly happy for about 20 minutes... But after flipping through the occasional InStyle and Glamour and gazing at all the rock stars and movie stars in Premier and Rolling Stone, I can't help but wish that I had the money to dress like them. I'd love to be able to invest in comfortable heels that I could rotate throughout my weekly wardrobe choices, and I'd love some skinny jeans that I could wear with my boots (not to mention a pair of high-heeled boots that would actually be considered fashionable), though never alone, of course, since only stick-thin women who have no hips can pull them off with any other shoe. I'd love to walk around in sweaters that are newer than three years old and aren't becoming ratty with all the little pills of yarn that form after many a wear. Dresses would be amazing. I bought one for Christmas that I just love. It was from Target, though a slightly more expensive side of Target (does anyone else see the irony in starting a Target Couture where the cheapest item would have a couple hundred dollar price tag?). I'll probably wear it to Spring Fling, even though its this great wine color that is definitely more suited to fall than spring. It's strapless with some tulle at the bottom to help it flair out a little and and almost corset affect created by some black lace, with a black ribbon at the waist. It would look even better if I spent the money to get it altered to actually fit my waist... One curse to having an ample bust is the need to buy larger sizes of clothing which then no longer fits at the waist, often making you look fatter than you actually are.
So the basic gist of all this is that I want to be able to follow fashion trends. I want to be able to afford and wear clothes that make me feel hot, attractive, confident, sexy. Oh boy... don't get me started on wanting new underwear... Your supposed to buy new bras every 6 months or something... It's been a couple of years...
Another goal that I got accomplished today was the initial piecing together of my resume. Initial is a lie, I had one put together for when I applied for (and got) the internship position in my office at school, but it was lost when I lost my VAIO this summer. Several drafts were put into it along with lots of advice from my dad, who has at least a part in a lot of the hiring at his office. Well now dad's out of town, but I know that I need to get this career planning stuff done now before I've got my priorities set on passing classes instead of enjoying free time. So a basic draft of my resume is together (though I can't remember what to put down for my objective "being paid for doing the thing I love" sounding too cheesy.
But now I'm paranoid that I won't be able to get a job in publishing. I have no experience (other than getting really, really pissed off at books with typos). I don't know much about English grammar. All I can really do is spot typos. I'm just trying to follow Katherine Whitehorn's advice of "find out what you like doing best and get someone to pay you for doing it." Unfortunately my meetings with the other woman in career planning last year are still to fresh in my mind. Being told that I must have been depressed when I took the Strong Interest Survey because my answers were all so mid-range, showing that I have no strong interest in anything... and finding that today (without the help of the new Survey that I was supposed to take last year) I still have no really strong interest in anything, leading to the somewhat algebraic conclusion of the fact that I must still be depressed (if a=b, then b=a).... Well, it doens't exactly give me a whole lot of confidence in my present life.
I'm afraid that I'll go in there and be subtly, condescendingly lectured about the fact that I have done nothing to prepare for any sort of job that I might be looking for.
I'm not looking forward to this semester at all. I'm taking my last French course, which is sadly with the most difficult French professor. I'm taking Latin because I like the professor and I want to keep one of the girls in it as my sort of friend (and I need the credit hours). I'm taking Human Origins to fulfill my last distributional requirement (I've been holding out for this class because its the only one that sounded interesting). I'm taking art history because I need another 4 credit hours and I'm hoping it will be relatively easy since I've taken half the class already (the two surveys, of which I have taken the second, have since been condensed into one). Plus it will reunite me with one of the professors on my Europe trip a year and a half ago. I'm auditing a history class on Medieval Civilization with my favorite professor in the whole world because, hey, I need more than two classes that I'm only halfway excited about. Plus Amelia is in the class, which is exciting because we haven't had a class together since sophomore year.
So dreading all but one class (and halfway dreading two classes). Dreading interviews that I know I'll have to give (though looking forward to buying a fabulous suit which hopefully will come from parental funds). Dreading post-graduation in general. Dreading the first few weeks of work where I'll have no idea what I'm doing and have to either force myself to be at least slightly outgoing or drown in loneliness. Dreading having to ask for a week or two off after having only worked for four months (at most) for my honeymoon (one week for honeymoon, one week for setting up house).
School is not good for me. Apparently I've been depressed since before I even started college (summer before which was when the SIS was taken) and it just get worse as each semester progresses. But then I get to come home and unwind over break and I get better again.
I don't know... I'm just worried that this depression thing isn't just from school. I've thought briefly about going on antidepressants to get me through the semester and help with the lack of motivation I have always had (I didn't even have any big childhood career aspirations). I push that idea away though because I'm worried that it would start a cycle of 'oh, maybe i wasn't ready to get off them yet, let me try again after the wedding. nope, time still isn't right, let me try again in a year.' I don't want drugs to be the answer, and neither does Jason (he has a phobia of mind altering substances, though alcohol doesn't make the list). His best friend convinced him that just one semester wouldn't hurt, if anything it could help.
But I'm afraid things won't get better after graduation. I'm afraid this is just how I am. It wouldn't be fair to give me this great, slightly more carefree time, and then make me give it up when my life finally gets settled again. I'm afraid I'll feel this way forever and either have to stay on the drugs for the rest of my life to be able to enjoy it, or have to settle back for these feelings, not matter how great my life may actually be...
And as usual, once I get to the point of rambling words that no longer express what I'm really feeling, its time to sign off.
My next project was to get rid of the four foot high stack of magazines that was piled on my floor and bookshelf. If Jason had had his way it would have been my first project, but he had to suffer it taking second place. Well I finished that today, having taken time to flip through them all and read the articles that actually held some interest to me and check back up on the fashions of summer 2004.
Through this I learned that by medical standards I am, in fact, underweight, which made me incredibly happy for about 20 minutes... But after flipping through the occasional InStyle and Glamour and gazing at all the rock stars and movie stars in Premier and Rolling Stone, I can't help but wish that I had the money to dress like them. I'd love to be able to invest in comfortable heels that I could rotate throughout my weekly wardrobe choices, and I'd love some skinny jeans that I could wear with my boots (not to mention a pair of high-heeled boots that would actually be considered fashionable), though never alone, of course, since only stick-thin women who have no hips can pull them off with any other shoe. I'd love to walk around in sweaters that are newer than three years old and aren't becoming ratty with all the little pills of yarn that form after many a wear. Dresses would be amazing. I bought one for Christmas that I just love. It was from Target, though a slightly more expensive side of Target (does anyone else see the irony in starting a Target Couture where the cheapest item would have a couple hundred dollar price tag?). I'll probably wear it to Spring Fling, even though its this great wine color that is definitely more suited to fall than spring. It's strapless with some tulle at the bottom to help it flair out a little and and almost corset affect created by some black lace, with a black ribbon at the waist. It would look even better if I spent the money to get it altered to actually fit my waist... One curse to having an ample bust is the need to buy larger sizes of clothing which then no longer fits at the waist, often making you look fatter than you actually are.
So the basic gist of all this is that I want to be able to follow fashion trends. I want to be able to afford and wear clothes that make me feel hot, attractive, confident, sexy. Oh boy... don't get me started on wanting new underwear... Your supposed to buy new bras every 6 months or something... It's been a couple of years...
Another goal that I got accomplished today was the initial piecing together of my resume. Initial is a lie, I had one put together for when I applied for (and got) the internship position in my office at school, but it was lost when I lost my VAIO this summer. Several drafts were put into it along with lots of advice from my dad, who has at least a part in a lot of the hiring at his office. Well now dad's out of town, but I know that I need to get this career planning stuff done now before I've got my priorities set on passing classes instead of enjoying free time. So a basic draft of my resume is together (though I can't remember what to put down for my objective "being paid for doing the thing I love" sounding too cheesy.
But now I'm paranoid that I won't be able to get a job in publishing. I have no experience (other than getting really, really pissed off at books with typos). I don't know much about English grammar. All I can really do is spot typos. I'm just trying to follow Katherine Whitehorn's advice of "find out what you like doing best and get someone to pay you for doing it." Unfortunately my meetings with the other woman in career planning last year are still to fresh in my mind. Being told that I must have been depressed when I took the Strong Interest Survey because my answers were all so mid-range, showing that I have no strong interest in anything... and finding that today (without the help of the new Survey that I was supposed to take last year) I still have no really strong interest in anything, leading to the somewhat algebraic conclusion of the fact that I must still be depressed (if a=b, then b=a).... Well, it doens't exactly give me a whole lot of confidence in my present life.
I'm afraid that I'll go in there and be subtly, condescendingly lectured about the fact that I have done nothing to prepare for any sort of job that I might be looking for.
I'm not looking forward to this semester at all. I'm taking my last French course, which is sadly with the most difficult French professor. I'm taking Latin because I like the professor and I want to keep one of the girls in it as my sort of friend (and I need the credit hours). I'm taking Human Origins to fulfill my last distributional requirement (I've been holding out for this class because its the only one that sounded interesting). I'm taking art history because I need another 4 credit hours and I'm hoping it will be relatively easy since I've taken half the class already (the two surveys, of which I have taken the second, have since been condensed into one). Plus it will reunite me with one of the professors on my Europe trip a year and a half ago. I'm auditing a history class on Medieval Civilization with my favorite professor in the whole world because, hey, I need more than two classes that I'm only halfway excited about. Plus Amelia is in the class, which is exciting because we haven't had a class together since sophomore year.
So dreading all but one class (and halfway dreading two classes). Dreading interviews that I know I'll have to give (though looking forward to buying a fabulous suit which hopefully will come from parental funds). Dreading post-graduation in general. Dreading the first few weeks of work where I'll have no idea what I'm doing and have to either force myself to be at least slightly outgoing or drown in loneliness. Dreading having to ask for a week or two off after having only worked for four months (at most) for my honeymoon (one week for honeymoon, one week for setting up house).
School is not good for me. Apparently I've been depressed since before I even started college (summer before which was when the SIS was taken) and it just get worse as each semester progresses. But then I get to come home and unwind over break and I get better again.
I don't know... I'm just worried that this depression thing isn't just from school. I've thought briefly about going on antidepressants to get me through the semester and help with the lack of motivation I have always had (I didn't even have any big childhood career aspirations). I push that idea away though because I'm worried that it would start a cycle of 'oh, maybe i wasn't ready to get off them yet, let me try again after the wedding. nope, time still isn't right, let me try again in a year.' I don't want drugs to be the answer, and neither does Jason (he has a phobia of mind altering substances, though alcohol doesn't make the list). His best friend convinced him that just one semester wouldn't hurt, if anything it could help.
But I'm afraid things won't get better after graduation. I'm afraid this is just how I am. It wouldn't be fair to give me this great, slightly more carefree time, and then make me give it up when my life finally gets settled again. I'm afraid I'll feel this way forever and either have to stay on the drugs for the rest of my life to be able to enjoy it, or have to settle back for these feelings, not matter how great my life may actually be...
And as usual, once I get to the point of rambling words that no longer express what I'm really feeling, its time to sign off.