Sometimes I am gripped by this intense desire to pick up my things and run off to live in a monastery in Italy or something, and make my own bread in the mornings for my dinner at night. And stare at the sky and be deeply passionate about poetry or anything else that rouses my enthusiasm. This is one of those times, I think. I'm not sure why I feel that way, I think its just because I feel tired for no reason, disinterested in doing work (even easy work, like watching a Spanish movie), and lonely. Also, I am completely unable to make any life decisions, such as those that pertain to study abroad.

In better news, I semi have an extra curricular now that doesn't just involve me gyrating in my underwear. I wrote my first terrible news article for the paper today, and now have 1 degree of separation from the former governor of Virginia. Although, I suppose he did directly respond to my questions, albeit through email, so I guess this means there is no separation whatsoever? It makes me feel important. Only actually really NOT. Also I am entertaining the idea of joining an a cappella group, because overburdening myself with extracurriculars may help me figure out what I want most in life, and meet new people, and fall out of my funk before I keel over and run to the school psychologist.

I'm not actually unhappy all the time, just sometimes. It doesn't help that I have screaming laughing happy couples within earshot all the time that only remind me of my loneliness or my impending longer stretch of loneliness. On more than one occassion, I have entertained the idea of being a drug addict/drunk for the rest of the year because it will help me put off life and maybe I'll become this delusional person that thinks being self-destructive is glamorous and then when I wake up from 2007 I'll write a really crappy novel about it. Only, again, NO obviously NOT.

Excuse me, I think I'll go get over myself now with my cupcake pajamas.