I’m not sure how I’m going to get up at 6:30 next Monday. I’ve pretty well destroyed my sleep schedule since I’ve been on my forced vacation. When we were still in the apartment and things were being packed, I went to bed rather reasonably around midnight every night. Now that we’ve moved, I stay up until two or three watching DVDs and cross stitching or working on my campaign. As a result, I wake up after ten or–like today–after eleven. I told myself earlier this week that I would work toward a goal of getting up earlier each day, but I haven’t. Next Monday is going to be “teh sux” for the both of us because that’s Ian’s first day of classes like my first day back at work. We both have to be at our respective places by eight though he has much farther to go since his campus is out of town.

I’m tired. I guess I mean physically tired as well, but what I really am is mentally exhausted. And yet, I have no clear idea as to why I’m so intellectually fatigued. I suppose it’s mostly attributable to the fact that I really haven’t done much in the way of using brainpower in a while. I haven’t worked on the page; I haven’t worked on my thesis or my syllabus for University 101; I haven’t been reading books; I haven’t been unpacking or organizing or ordering all of our bookshelves; and I haven’t been feeling well which simply compounds the issue. I think that getting back to work will help me out a lot because I’ll be forced into sitting at a desk all day and therefore working on something be it for my job, my thesis, or my many other projects. When eight hours of my day getting taken away by being somewhere other than home, it forces me into paying more attention to what I do at home.

Well, I’m rambling again. I literally just woke up about two minutes before starting this post, and I’m not entirely sure why I’m posting. I suppose I missed the creative process of writing and the sound of typing. I guess I also missed getting my ideas down in another medium besides my over-active brain, somewhere where I can step back and look at my thoughts at a distance instead of being too close to them and their muddled masses in my grey matter. I guess right now I’m missing an awful lot, and I’m feeling guilty that it’s my fault I’m letting it all slip through my fingers. <Sight> Whatever. I’m going to go get a drink of water and start contemplating an exercise and diet regime so that I don’t look like the cow I am next year for my sister’s wedding in the bridesmaid dress that Sarah picked out. It sucks feeling this low.