imaginarycircus

I've been sitting here for an hour and a half hunched over my laptop and I haven't had a single cogent thought besides my guts are crampy and I don't know what the portends. (The meds make my IBS flare like hell on Judgment Day.)

Have not heard back from anyone regarding anything. I did see on FB that agent just read something beautiful and fabulous and it made me so sad that it wasn't my manuscript. I'm so low I feel like giving up a little bit. I'm not going to and once I feel better I'll get back to work. But for now I'm in limbo and I should probably get the hell out of the coffee shop since the coffee failed to make me anymore awake and this is one of those rare ocassions I don't dare even open Word because my brain is too muzzy to do anything besides damage my existing work.

Maybe picking this path and going to grad school was a lesson in horrific self indulgence and self deception?

Wacky horoscope man says:

"In astrology, the word "quincunx" refers to a relationship characterized by creative tension. Two planets that are in quincunx are like two people who have a certain odd affinity for each other but don't speak the same language. Imagine an Italian woman and an American man meeting at a party and experiencing an immediate chemistry, even though each can barely understand what the other is saying. I bring this up, Capricorn, because these days you're in a quincunx dynamic with pretty much the whole world. To keep frustration to a minimum and enhance the excitement quotient, you should try to crack some of the foreign codes you're surrounded by."

What do you think lilaia? I just feel tired, but maybe if I had some clue about what the hell was going on I would be energized?

I hate being all "I wear black on the outside because black is how I feel on the inside." It was fine when I was 17, but now it makes me sick of myself. My therapist is away at a symposia and I don't think that is helping this situation at all.

I have to take the medicine again this eve, which means tomorrow may be a non-day. I have no plans so I can read or sleep or whatever. I really hope next week is better. The nausea is the worst part--followed by the fatigue. I should go buy some gingersnaps this afternoon. They seem to be helping more than ginger pills or ginger tea. I wish there were something I could take to counteract the feeling that I am walking through a sea of molasses and all my limbs weight about 300 pounds each.

So I left the coffee shop and stopped at home to drop off my laptop and make faces at the Wooster cat. I found a letter from our state dept. of revenue saying we owe them more than $4k--a lot more. I panicked thinking I had screwed up the taxes so I called David. Except I noticed the taxes in question were from 2006. We did not live in MA during any part of 2006. Error! We figured out that a bank had the wrong address on file for us that year and so we'll have to call or send a letter and we do not actually owe this money. Hello, near myocardial infarction.

Then I headed to Harvard Square to meet lucullean in person finally. On the way there I ran into a guy I know from the coffee shop who is a biochemist and has developed a new drug for Alzheimers. Then I bumped into another friend from the coffee shop who is doing a joint JD/Master's in Public Health. And then I met up with lucullean who is on her way to being a brilliant doctor--and is also gorgeous. These people all amaze me.

Burdick's has a new thing--a strawberry roulade. It's basically a strawberry shortcake and is lovely and very light. I seem to be craving strawberries a lot lately. Good thing it is June.

I overheard a come to Jesus talk at the coffee shop this afternoon. There is an old lady, she's a regular, who is kind of ornery and she met with a girl who looked at least 30. The old lady was telling her all the hard truths about why the younger woman's life was so FUBAR--not the least of which is that she took student loans that fall due while she is still in school and she has no way to pay them--but she is trying to get a job as a waitress. Or something. I can be amazingly nonsensical, but even I have my shit more together than this woman. And that's terrifying.

I'm very rambly. Sorry.