I swear, this semester just seems harder than every other semester, EVER. And not, like, devastating, not so bad that I just can't take it, it's just one thing after another. I broke a glass the other day--actually I'm pretty sure the cat knocked it off the night stand, but whatever--and I seriously just wanted to cry. Which is just fucking ridiculous, and totally melodramatic of course, but seriously, it's just one thing after another. Just, BAH. And now I need to finish a first draft of a paper that I actually am really into, and holy shit, I am a terrible writer and/or historian. A historian! That is why I qualify to be a TA, because I am a historian, or like a historian-in-training? What?
I don't know. I don't know where this is going or what the point is. But I saw Jeb the other day, and when I was leaving, he was like "well, I'll see you in another six months." And the reason no one ever sees me, the reason I rarely manage to finish the blog posts I keep starting, is because it is just one damn thing after another.