Between worrying about finances, the thesis, my classes, starting work back up, not having finished unpacking the study, a psycho cat who’s always on edge, the husband going back to school, and just the other general concerns of being a human being, I’m rather a fucking wreck. I think that the head cold I had a few weeks ago is coming back to add to the aches in all of my joints from either typing too much or walking on dress shoes too much. Add to that the overwhelming exhaustion which knocks me out around ten every night if not earlier, and you’ve got a puddle of pain who can’t function long enough to fix half of the problems that are going on. All I’ve been doing is sleeping when I’m not at work, and I doubt that all the tea in the apartment (and believe me, we have a lot) can keep me awake long enough to accomplish some of my goals. Here’s to trusting that the weekend will help me sort some of this crap out or at least relaxing for a while. Maybe since I’m tired and groggy, I’ll try extra hard to kill off all my friends in DnD tonight. They seem to like near-death experiences, after all. Who wouldn’t? It’s thrilling.

If anyone remembers that yesterday’s post mentioned getting some of my second novel up here and if anyone realizes that I didn’t actually get any of it up, there’s a bunch of reasons for that, the first being the entire first paragraph’s laundry list of complaints. The second being that while I was working on writing up a bit more at work, I managed to get a page written. I didn’t even get to the verso; I just barely filled the recto. One page. That’s how much time I have at work to do anything besides breathe. At least yesterday was slow enough to afford me the time to write that one page, I guess. I can’t wait until the last day to add classes rolls around and most of the problem of signing students up for classes will be in their hair, not mine.

Today I hope to bake some bread, maybe some muffins. I figure that we’ve got plenty of flour and yeast that I can just make our bread rather than buy it since our finances are in such dire straits. Don’t get paid until September 9, indeed. Sometimes I fucking hate being an intern. Oh well. I think it’s time to go dig out the wheat flour and yeast and start working on a loaf. Accomplishing anything, even something as simple as a loaf of bread, might raise my spirits a little. I need that.