It's finally stopped raining, but I don't feel so different. In spite of exercising, in spite of making plans to see good people, in spite of so much coffee, I've been uber-tired lately, and I'm wondering if dating causes sleeping sickness.
Or maybe writing a creative thesis?
One or the other.
I'm still sort of tricking myself into getting the rewriting done, which is fine, as long as it keeps getting done. If you've ever gone through a phase of having very intense dreams, and it made you avoid going to bed, that might give an idea of how I feel about sitting down to write lately. It's not that I don't enjoy it, I'm not having bad dreams, but I anticipate intensity, and that gives me pause.
Same with dating now that I think about it. it might be nice to be in a relationship again. It might be the equivalent of getting run over by an ice cream truck -- that is, ironically painful.
Get over it.
In the meanwhile, one of my greatest pleasures is reading Ursula K. Le Guin's collection of essays on fantasy and science fiction The Language of the Night. I hope whatever I write next will be at least a little fantastic. Reality is getting tired.
UPDATE: My temperature is a bit below normal. Because I'm below normal? Or because I am ill? Which would explain the mopey. I will reserve judgment on dating and writing until my temperature improves.
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