Prepoceros

. . . which is why you get a crap post like this one. Why is my head fuzzy?! This upsets me.

I need to go to bed soon, or else I’ll get into a cycle where I feel crummy, so I’m afraid to go to sleep, so I stay up, but then I end up feeling worse, and the tiredness makes the crazy stronger, so then I’m REALLY afraid to sleep, and this goes on and on until I get so tired that I fall asleep in spite of myself, usually at some obscenely late hour with the lights on and a book on my face.

The weather’s supposed to turn wintry tomorrow after what’s been a pleasant Fall in the low 80s. I wore a short skirt today to say farewell to decent temperatures. Once it drops into the 60s, I’m not a outdoors fan any more.

(more…)

Tonight I am sleepy. I’m sleepy a lot these days. I don’t know if it’s related to the dizziness. The sleepiness makes my sentences simpler.

I went to school today. I think today was the right day to go back to school. I felt dizzy a few times, but not sick enough to want to go home. I think I’ll even be able to start driving myself around again tomorrow. I don’t want to jinx it, though, so we’ll see.

John is reformatting my computer tonight. I’m getting a whole new Windows and a whole new Linux. Well, the Linux is all new, or at least updated; Windows is the same old XP, but we’re clearing out all the crap I’ve accumulated lo these two years and starting over. Minimalism, you know.

By gosh, I think this is long enough to be a post now. I’ll stop typing.

I seem to have strained my eyes, or at least that’s what it feels like. For the last little while, any time I’m on the computer for more than an hour I get headaches and feel nauseated. I feel that way now, in fact, so there won’t be much more of this typing thing. It’s as good an excuse as any to go to bed—I’m a little behind on sleep.*

My point, I think, is that this is frustrating. It means I’ll have to start making blog-reading the LAST thing I do when I sit down at the computer, not the first, otherwise I’ll spend my hour or more without accomplishing anything. Sigh. My life is so hard.

(more…)

Man, that was a great vacation. There’s too much to tell here, especially in my current state of exhaustion, in which I’ll be fortunate if I’m coherent enough to spell all the words right in these few sentences.

Driving home from vacation is usually a bit sad, especially when you can feel your week of fun outdoorsy bondy time dissolving into a semester of school and work and chores and commitments.

(more…)

I’ve just submitted my final paper in Roman Historians. The three assignments together came out to 8309 words, in the end, most of which were written in the last 24 hours, of which I slept almost two. Let it be known that I do not recommend this experience to anyone.

It occurs to me that I am now done with spring semester, as my last final was yesterday. That’s a weird feeling. I’ll have more time to appreciate it in the morning—right now I’m drained, and my achy eyes can barely focus on the screen. I’m going to go email my professor my apologies for my tardiness and then crash. Kerrrrrrrplunk.

My last class of the semester was this past Monday, and my finals will be Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday of next week. That would make this week my first wee taste of the glorious freedom of summer—before it’s snatched away by summer school, that is.

It’s not been a bad week so far, though it has flown by. I’ve had exactly one thing to do every single day except Wednesday, usually teaching in the evenings in random far-off suburbs. It’s mildly annoying to have to plan my relaxing around evening appointments, but I’ve managed somehow. At least it gets me showered and dressed and out into the sunlight every day, which can’t be a bad thing.

(more…)

Walking Sam around my parents’ neighborhood is fun and relaxing. Walking Sam around my apartment complex is not. Why? There are people here. They’re EVERYWHERE.

(more…)

I don’t know what it means, either. I dreamed it thirty seconds ago, not in bed where I ought to be, but scrunched in an awkward position against my couch. You know that weird in-between state as you’re falling asleep, when your thoughts seem to be a continuation of what you were thinking a minute ago? But if you stop and think about it, they make no sense at all? Mmm, that’s good stuff. Hilarious.

Oh look, there we go again. I drifted off for maybe a minute between paragraphs just now and dreamed my mom was in an aerobics class out in front of our house.

This is probably a common sentiment here at the halfway point, but I don’t know if NaBloPoMo is good for me (or you). Knowing I “have to” blog everyday makes it seem like a chore, so I put it off and put if off and put it off until it’s 11-something, and then, instead of writing something that might be worth your time to read, I’m racking my brain for a quick and dirty topic I can dash off with as little effort as possible. Whatever runs through my head in the last ten minutes before midnight I write down, and somehow that counts as a post. I’m doing this at this very moment, as I’m sure you can tell. Sorry.

Lazy link: Postsecret. It’s self-explanatory. I’ve blogged about it before.

If this were not NaBloPoMo, I would not be posting tonight. Why not? Because I feel like crap. I’m not sure what it is—I was completely fine and ordinary-feeling until about half an hour ago, when I was suddenly overcome by extreme sleepiness and a desire to do nothing but lay on the couch with my puppy. I don’t feel particularly sick, just, you know, not interested in moving or thinking or doing anything at all. I apologize in advance (in the middle, whatever) for the un-thought-out grammar and likely incoherence of this post. There are probably spelling errors, even. The horror.

I got stood up at a tutoring lesson this evening, for the third time this week (by three different students). What—do I smell or something? Why are people not in their houses at the times we’ve agreed on? So that was fun, spending two hours in my car during rush hour. Thank goodness for podcasts. I get paid, yes. Big whoop. I care more about my time.

Perhaps it was something I ate. On the way home from my cancelled lesson I stopped at Jamba Juice and got a raspberry smoothie and a pizza protein bar. I expected all that health food crap and vitamin-y whatnot to energize me, though, not bring me crashing down. Whatevs.

That tutoring student is supposed to call to reschedule, but she hasn’t yet. I’m trying to decide whether I can muster up the perkiness to call her, or whether I’ll just turn off the ringer on my phone and crawl into bed.

Wow. I am so tremendously grumpy, for no apparent reason. How is it only 8:30? I’d swear I’d been up all night. I’m all glum and moody and mopey, but NOTHING HAS HAPPENED. WTF.

Oh wait, wait. Brain. working. slowly. But I have a guess. I’m guessing temporary anemia. Will take an iron pill and go to bed. Woo! What a relief, to be fairly confident that I’m not dying and that my current malaise is likely easily remediable. Am still fairly confident that I cannot type anything worth reading, as it takes a concerted effort even to lift my hands all the way up to the keyboard. So I should stop. With the typing. And go away and leave you nice people alone.

Oh right. I promised links. Okay, let me find one I’m not too personally invested in. Aha. Overheard in New York. Updates several times a day, is hilarious, is wildly popular on this interweb thing. The headlines they add to the reader-contributed quotes they post are often the best part. See also: Overheard in the Office.

Conclusion: Blogging when one does not feel particularly inclined to blog leads to sharing, usually at length and concerning things which are of little interest to readers*, who are undoubtedly unsubscribing in droves** at this very moment for fear they might otherwise be subjected to such drivel for twenty-eight more days. Bye folks! Nice knowin ya!

Sleep? Sleep.

[UPDATE (7:37 AM): I’m alive, yes. Ten hours of sleep. I dreamt of cheerleading, Judaism, and strawberry cordial, but not simultaneously. Still don’t feel spectacular, but much better than I did last night. Sorry for all the whining.]

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* The technical term for this is blogorrhea. I wish I could take credit for that one. So evocative.

** I don’t know how many a “drove” is supposed to be, but I’m sure all my three readers together constitute less than one drove. Negative readership, here I come!

When I wake up on my own feeling well-rested and ready to get out of bed in a few minutes, and I take a few moments to enjoy this rare experience, thinking about the dreams I’ve had, snuggling with my puppy, wondering how much extra time I’ll have this morning now that I’ve woken up early . . . and then my alarm goes off.

It’s better than my usual painful wake-up routine, but still. I was all excited for a minute there, damnit.

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P.S. “Central crisis of my psyche”? That’s rich. I should write while I’m awake.