I’m killing time until my laundry appointment at 4pm. Today is the day where I finally ran out of underwear, which means I can’t postpone the inevitable any longer. Fuck. Off to the laundromat with my four IKEA bags. Once I get going it isn’t so bad; it’s just the mustering up the energy to start a three-hour long project that involves running up and down stairs over and over again that proves difficult for me. Also, I strained my foot in my sleep the other night, I don’t know how, so I’ve been limping around for the last couple of days. I don’t think that would’ve worked so well with stairs and carrying heavy bags and holding doors while trying to do all of those things at the same time.
In some ways, I am doing better. In other ways, it’s the same. I’m happy that it’s March 1st — although I’m not really sure what it will do for me. It will make a difference in weather, of course, and temperatures (hopefully). There will be more light and said light will last much longer. Hopefully that light can transcend the dark cloud that is my constant companion and I can be happier. (I think I might be the queen of cheesy analogies).
All week I look forward to the weekend, and yet the weekends are the worst because that is when my life feels the most empty. So why I keep telling myself that it’s just the greatest thing ever, is, I think, more of a habit than an actual reflection on my part.
God. I’m sorry, internet, that this is such a sap-fest. I will say that I have plenty of homework to fill my days with, so at least there’s that, right?