|I know we're lost, but soon we'll be found.
||[Jan. 31st, 2010|02:51 am]
Maybe it's just that I communicate in a different way. Not good, not bad, just different. I am working on being more clear, but really, if I said outright everything that I was thinking, there would be no point in talking anymore, would there?|
I don't know what I'm saying anymore. It's late. I just wish that I didn't feel like I want to talk so much more after everyone has already left.
Maybe if I just keep typing, I'll type myself to sleep. I just don't know what to do lately. I have good friends, but I still feel like I'm neglecting people, and I can't help feeling that way, especially when I wind up feeling guilty for not seeing certain people for a couple of days and promising that we'll hang out, but it's never enough. I really do know a lot of people, but I still feel close to so many of them. I was hoping this semester would be easy, but it seems like I already have a lot of homework, not to mention applications that have to be done soon and doctors' appointments that are going to eat up a whole lot of my free time next week. We'll see how it goes.
As uncomfortable as I am being alone in my room, I guess it does give me something to hope for. I always did like this in-between time. Maybe that's why it's feeling like summer. I'm feeling in between.
I hope that Janice gets back to me. Maybe I should e-mail Alan, too, just for good measure. I e-mailed her days ago, and she definitely opened the e-mail, but maybe she is just very busy. It must be hard getting ready to fill the shoes of the director of a master's program.
I've got that nice sort of dizzy, merry-go-round head spin that happens when I'm just about ready to go to bed. It doesn't always happen, but I like to hold onto it when it does happen. It feels like some imaginary centrifugal force is all that's keeping me steady in this room.
It's Daniela's birthday, and everyone is still pacing the hallways and laughing and screaming and singing in some language that I can't identify. Sometimes it sounds like French, but I'm pretty sure that it's not.
Okay. I think I'm ready for bed now. I hope I can play my ukulele tomorrow. I really do think it would be like finally providing physical therapy for my poor broken thumb to get it to stretch a bit.