the wrong side of the bed

i tell people that i have no boundaries, and mostly i don't, but there are a couple of things i fiercely protect. this morning i woke up sad about one of them. sad and defeated and hopeless. it is days like these that i just want to listen to sad music and sit with a downward turn to my mouth. when people ask me what is wrong, i will sigh heavily and say, "nothing." nothing is wrong anyway.

this morning on my walk, i wanted sympathy from careyoke and lisa lisa, so i told them i was upset with my life and that i felt stupid and that school had me down. by the end of the walk, i truly was upset about these things. i feel like i get uglier, lazier, stupider, etc. every day. i really ought to be doing something with my life while i still have the resources of youth with which to accomplish my (some? anyone's?) goals.

i am not an academic; i am a child. why can't i just be a child? i want to watch cartoons and eat ice cream until i am ridiculously fat and round. i want to have tea parties even though i hate tea.

Many days everything is wrong for me, too. And sad. Really, really sad. And then if I even write one part of it out, my veins fill with ice water.

It's a really bad feeling because I'm feeling really bad.

Just let me know when you want company, so I can warm my hands around one of your tea cups.

The secret, of course, is that we're all ugly, lazy, and stupid, deep down. And for what it's worth, I think 'not being an academic' should carry with it like zero shame/anger/despair/whatever. Just as 'the man' in general is trying to mold you into some gross idea of the perfect woman, 'the academic man' has his ideas too. JLo's butt is a published paper, or something.

hey wait a minute -- is the implication here that nothing much can be accomplished once you're past some magic age???? I'm giving you the gift of time: you have a hell of a lot of years to "get stuff done."