Despertar

please don't, not today

Three hours of sleep, then I woke up with puffy eyes. I vaguely remember listening to some stupid song and crying a lot, but that took place in that post-midnight vacuum that tricks you into thinking you have all the time in the world to indulge your stupid whatever emotions. Now I have to be in class in twenty minutes and spend an entire hellacious day on campus drumming up interest in the Habitat for Humanity spring break trip, both of which duties fall cleanly under the category of Things I Do Not Really Care About Considering I'm Going to Die Alone Anyway. I owe someone fourteen dollars for the cost of my canceled North Carolina reservation, et cetera.

And now I know it's hormones, or mostly hormones, which, thank God, because I think I'd kill myself if I were to wake up again in two days feeling this hopeless about everything. But I know it's hormones because even after I managed not to cry about Marcus, I wound up crying about Leno, Lisa Hannigan, Voxxylady and Eric Wharton and my summer job, instead. The summer job thing, I made myself get up at seven because I knew I owed the recruiter an updated resume, and I didn't want to be the last person to get it in, but then I realized I didn't have the right software or a template in which I felt much confidence, so I had to start from scratch, installing and downloading things for an hour, bullshitting through the past two years of my life for another. Which brings us to now.

I'm having one of those days, or weeks, when I think maybe it would be stupid to ever have a baby, the thing I'm most looking forward to in life, because I don't enjoy life consistently enough to want to pass it on. And everyone I'd ordinarily talk to about anything seems miles away, literally or otherwise. I think I'd be happy if I were writing a novel, if I had some long-term creative project I really cared about and could dip into whenever I felt most terrible. But I'm still crippled by thoughts of how inferior I'd feel if whatever I wrote turned out really badly, because failure is one thing that always undoes me, no matter what time of month.