Nocturnes
I've been pissy lately. Not at anyone in particular, or perhaps simply at myself. Mostly, I think, it's stress. Although, really, there doesn't seem to be that much to stress about. Except. Except that I have barely three weeks of classes left and haven't even began really thinking about the final paper. Except that we invited M's parents to my Masters graduation (seemed like a brilliant idea at the time -- full of potential and unforeseen economic benefits) and they'll be here for a week and that always makes me nervous and while I still believe that inviting them was the right thing to do, I am nonetheless dreading it just a little bit. Except that I will be done with the Masters and despite the fact that I absolutely hated this program and that this school is absolutely wrong for me, there is something bitter-sweet about it. Except that I really, really, really need to get a decently paying job for this Summer and that is going to be a) hard - what with my lack of marketable skills, and b) painful - as I don't foresee it being easy. Except that, come September, I will no longer be an Anthropologist, but that's neither here nor there, and also a topic for a whole new LJ post. Except that my apartment "back home" is undergoing renovations and that costs money and drives me slightly nuts, given the fact that I am here and can't do (read: control) much of anything. Except that I wish I was easier on myself. Except that I really don't need a shrink to tell me that I am not extremely social and a people's person because, hello! I kind of knew that already and reminding me of my perfectly internalized and overly analyzed shortcomings is not necessarily helpful. Except.
Heh, I am sure there is more. But really, one of the main reasons I never write here anymore is because I can't stand the sound of my own perpetual whining. Because life? It is actually pretty damn good right now.
I've been bad at sleeping lately. Actually, no, let me rephrase that: I've been bad at falling asleep. At keeping decent, normal-people hours. I'm trying chamomile tea, valerian pills, lavender extract on pillow. Wish me luck.
Heh, I am sure there is more. But really, one of the main reasons I never write here anymore is because I can't stand the sound of my own perpetual whining. Because life? It is actually pretty damn good right now.
I've been bad at sleeping lately. Actually, no, let me rephrase that: I've been bad at falling asleep. At keeping decent, normal-people hours. I'm trying chamomile tea, valerian pills, lavender extract on pillow. Wish me luck.