Problematic

I spent a lot of the morning listening to musicals. I am trying to keep up with writing one, you see. My goal is to finish writing it within a year. I don't know if I could manage by the end of the year. I am not sure how long a musical should be at this point. As far as script length anyway. My philosophy of science class is in a Philosophy Seminar room. It's quite cozy. An absence is noticeable. The class has gotten steadily smaller over the last few weeks, but I think the attendees have plateaued. I can't imagine anyone else falling off. Although no one is particularly engaged. There is this one boy, that I watch out of the corner of my eye. He's attractive and he nods along as the professor is speaking, as though he is having a private conversation that warrants a response. I imagine the professor appreciates it because of the glazed expressions and lack of eye-contact he receives otherwise. I am currently in a crowded coffee shop. It's called Bennu, and it ...

Isis is ready to come home. It's such a simple and innocuous statement, I would never have thought it would weigh so heavily on my heart. I would never have considered that this thought would cause me so much pain. I'm still not sure to what degree and for how long this is supposed to hurt- but I think tomorrow will be my last sequential post on the subject. Tomorrow I go get her. And I am not ready. I still hadn't completely adjusted to her being gone. Although the photos I have of her on my phone have become somewhat cathartic. As has writing about this. I think people are a little disinterested in the fact that I am in mourning for a creature so small, whose life was so short. This is likely a projection. I think I judge myself and the way I spend my energy quite harshly and I assume others are just as unkind. People are probably quite sad for me as well, and understanding that it has been little more than a week since a very prominent presence in my life left abru...

I haven't been able to sketch lately, but at least I have been able to write, I suppose. I feel I should be reading more as well. I began reading The Stranger again, and that has been a slow trough through venomous mediocrity. I don't know if I get it. I'm also trying to read Mansfield Park but have had some trouble getting through the foreword. Perhaps I don't need to read it, but I have learned some interesting perspectives from forewords and so I inclined to preserver (a word I thought had an e at the end). I have started receiving mail at my new apartment. Packages. In my fridge there is eggs, kale, mushrooms, baby carrots, diet cherry Dr. Pepper, Le Croix, and hard cider (a special summer ginger flavor!) Of these things I have only used the Dr. Pepper and the Le Croix. Oh, and a Brita! I purchased that on my second day here. There's clothes, blankets and books strewn across the floor which makes the space feel comfortably snug. The bed on one end, open to a...

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...