Meh. I don’t even know why I am commiting this particularly grim phase (and it better just be a phase) to blog posterity. It seems like a kind of stupid idea. I guess I have a lot of those, though, so it all makes sense. I can’t believe that a month and a half ago I was tromping around giddily like a giddy little moron, and now school’s started and it feels like I’m walking around with 500 pounds on my shoulders all day long. Freud allegedly said that the two hallmarks of a happy life were love and work, but Freud was a grade-A douche bag who didn’t understand women, so fuck him. I have work, I have so much work that the work has its own work, and that work’s work delegates other work. And it’s work I like–or at least I think I do, or thought I did. I think I’m having second-year trauma; apparently it happens here a lot. My friend Erin spent a lot of last year planning to learn the zither and move to Greece; Mr. Newly Beardless claimed to want to join a bluegrass band and move to the mountains. I suppose I could take up knitting and move to the Virgin Islands (where knit goods are in high demand), or figure out how to play poker and move to the Internet. But I’m in one of my grumpy little despondent phases where I don’t want to go anywhere and I don’t want to do anything. And I have a love life and a job, but I’m juggling stress from everything and nothing will give. I figure all lucky people (ie people with no real problems, such as me–and no, that doesn’t make me feel any better, I just feel like I’m a big baby loser and that’s just one more thing to worry about, like my gymnastics coaches used to yell at me for having a bad attitude but the fact that my coaches yelled at me all the time was just another thing to make me unhappy and thus cause my bad attitude…and yes, I realize I still have a bad attitude, fuck off!) have in general three things they worry about:
their money, or lack thereof
and I’ve got stomach knots about all of them. This is not to say that I have relationship problems, or even a big serious relationship with which to have problems, so don’t go getting all huffy, people who may or may not be Mr. Human Exfoliator–I started seeing a guy at the end of last (academic) year and I have made no secret to everyone I know, human and Internet, that I think he is, in the words of the great romantic Voltaire, "super-rad." It’s just that my anxiety permeates to all parts of my life, and acts like a poison, and thus threatens to fuck with what is otherwise the nicest relationship I have had since I was in high school and not jaded about relationships yet (I’m serious, it is–I hope you are reading this, Mr. Ex-Beard, because it’s true).
On top of this, my aforementioned workload is turning me into a Nietzschean Abyss Monster, and my hilariously dire financial situation precludes me from going anywhere or doing anything to blow off steam (even buying/drinking cheap champagne is not an option right now).
I just feel like, for the first time since I can remember (when I wasn’t PMSed or in withdrawal from my goofballs addiction), I don’t have anything to look forward to. I know this isn’t true–I just…as I said, I’m grumpy and depressed. And it looks so stupid all written out like this (even after editing the most pathetic parts out), but that is failing to put things in perspective or make me feel better. I don’t know what can make me feel better.
PS I have never been addicted to goofballs. That was a joke.