Problematic

Here is another two-part post, this first part is from early March: What are your passions? Process improvement and comedy. I want things to be as efficient and amusing as possible at all times. Those at the two things I geek out about. On a broader level, television, but right now I have zeroed on comedy. I'm not sure when either became such a big deal for me either. I have other interests, of course, but those are, for the most part, things that I can be far more fickle about. I don't feel a constant longing or compulsion- although- perhaps that is a lie. I think processes improvement and comedy are just at the forefront right now. They are the IT Girls of my obsessions which also include fashion, drama, art, chocolate and wikipedia. I do on occasion ache to draw or write in the same way I am now driven to reformat documents and lay-out procedures. I am not sure when this fixation developed, but I am pretty sure it has something to do with my urge to Google: I just li

Before: I haven't done my math homework but I had pie today because it is Pi day. I know you know what it is, but in case you don't want to have to Google it again it's 3.14 which means you have pie as a chubby little math nerd. After: I had intended to write this post quite some time ago because I was excited to see I was approaching my 1000th view! So- I guess this "influencer" thing is coming along... That has passed though, and much like the old bit about the guy watching his odometer I was oblivious to the occasion. I did do my homework. Two biology labs in three hours. But I had a bit of a nervous breakdown first. I think I mentioned, or maybe I meant to, that during spring break I was going to go back to my PCP to discuss being on my medications. I naively took a few strands of hair to try to back my way out of having a mental disorder and place myself firmly, securely, in with people who have more tangible issues. Things people can see and so t

Spring break is officially in full swing because I am incredibly hungover. I should not pour my own drinks. Before making my way to Houston last night I did something I have not done since the beginning of this blog; partially out of fear, partially out of laziness. I finally read a few of my posts and, beyond the fact that they were slightly more coherent than I expected, I realized I had unintentionally been capturing a glimpse at my increasing depression. I had assumed I was getting better: writing is supposed to be cathartic, after all. I guess that is an interesting, if not over-done, twist. It's becoming common for the protagonist to realize, shortly after the audience, that they have a bigger problem than they were willing to admit. I suppose, once again, I am following the trend. This brings me to a few soap-boxes. Aside from coming to terms with my current state of mind, I have also taken stock of my niche in the running narratives of life. Everyone has a s

I have no idea what I want out of life. I mostly want it to stop. I don't know that any of my goals are truly achievable. I have been off my new medication for two days but I find it incredibly hard to believe that is why I feel this way. I probably don't need to be on the medication at all. One of the fun things about working in a doctor's office is that at some point you may have a conversation with someone about how they feel like killing themselves. You may be so taken aback when confronted with someone else's possibly fatal sadness that you put them on hold to find someone better equipped to deal with this, and then people will tell you A. don't put someone who claims to be suicidal on hold and B. what questions to ask a suicidal person. And then you will have to stifle your incredulous giggles because you don't want anyone to know you are secretly evil and attention seeking. Here's the short list of what you ask: Are you alone? How are you pl