Bleh.
I am attempting to write. This makes me happyful, even though so far I've produced <100 words of Jack Harkness character study shit. I know I can do something about Jack/Alonso, with a dash of remember!Ianto, but I don't have the enthusiasm I need. Which leads to fail. Plus I really want to write John, in any way, shape or form. And het. I want to write het. Because I haven't for an unhealthily long time. My To-Do list grows longer by the day.
Sadness setting in, for no actual reason whatsoever. Which makes the sadness doubley worse, because I can't counteract it, because I don't know what's causing it. Sadness therefore ensues.
Feeling unenthusiatic about stuff now. Snowfall made me happy for about an hour, but then I remembered I had fuckloads of coursework due in for now, and I got all down again. I have been such a buzzkill today. And I couldn't even binge-eat successfully - I felt sick after less than a fifth of a small tub of ice-cream. It seems I'm just a failure at everything.
On the bright side, due to the snowfall, my bus may not make it to the village to pick me up, which means I get to stay home. However, I still have to get up, just in case. And knowing my luck, the bus'll make it. Bastard. If I'm feeling better, I'll update tomorrow. If I stay home, I'll probably force myself to write and end up feeling worse because I've written shite. Good times ahead (Y).
Anyway, it's half-past midnight and I have to be up at 7:30. Night all.
Cookies.