Argh. Today. Today was mostly rooted in the aftereffects
from yesterday. Due to a plethora
of both work responsibilities and unduckable wedding
s, I managed to average 42 MPH yesterday, even when sitting on my duff
at the wedding du jour. Arose at 6:30 after three hours sleep, drove 4 hours, wedding, vegetarian food (yaaaigh!), drove 4 hours home stopping for a D'Angelos
massive steak/salami/cheese cholestorol
Anyhow, today, I feel the aftereffects of:
- 8 hours of driving
- 3 hours sleep before yesterday and 4 hours last night, which leads to...
- 8 cups of coffee yesterday
- a few glasses of champagne
- The depression of watching yet another friend get happily married.
Now remember why I stopped being a grad student
. In preparation for upcoming return to the academic fold, went to speak with one of my advisors and the bursar
's office. Managed to be berated
for 45 minutes and then trudge across campus to shell out $4,000 for the privilege.
Returned to work to find not much happening, but managed to convince myself to spend part of a windfall on new furniture, despite not having done important precursor tasks like, oh, painting or carpets.
What is one to do about weddings when it's a physical chore to attend the things? I mean, over and above the normal logistical chore, which I'm happy to undergo. I mean an emotional chore of such a level that there is physical fallout. I'm past...well, older than I thought I'd ever be and be alone. But alone I am. Nothing, nada, zip, niente, zero, bupkes. It's only been, hmm...thirteen years since my last and really only relationship. Which ended poorly, of course.
Hah. Fooled you. This is a whiny node.
No degree yet, and realizing how much work precisely it will be to get that as well as continue working to pay for it made this afternoon's trip to the 'Tute one of more import than it was meant to be, for now I keep tossing the factors around in my head. If I quit, I'll hate myself forever. If I quit, I'll doom myself to spending my career/life doing things that while somewhat interesting aren't what really make my head tick, while the degree that might let me do those things is within reach. Am I really just that lazy, that the notion of doing real work again causes this much turmoil? Or is my concern of job vs school a legitimate one? It's a legitimate question; without the former, I can't afford the latter.
Still, there is supposedly much to be thankful for.
While I was taking the T over to work today there was a moment, when the train was on the Longfellow Bridge, when there was a quick silence that seemed to last about three hours. It might be imminent Zoloft withdrawal symptoms (ran out two days ago and haven't had much sleep) but I don't know. I recall clearly thinking perhaps five or ten minutes worth of thoughts in the maybe five seconds that the train was unmoving and there was somehow no sound.
There was a woman with pink hair sitting across from me. She looked exactly like Gigi Edgeley's character in Farscape, save for the hair (and, naturally, skin) color. All concentration vanished then.
Two more hours of work to go.