Diet Coke and Ice Cream

I too am saddened by the sporadicness of my entries this month. These days, I'm finding that there's just not enough hours in the day to keep up with my work (which I fully intend to stay on top of this quarter), my responsibilities as the dorm's new webmaster, and, of course, my friends while still maintaining a daily chronicle of my activities. I suppose it doesn't matter too much. Any entries I produce now likely won't be of much coherent substance because, in my efforts to keep up with everything, I've been sacrificing sleep. In fact, I might have reached a breaking point in that area today as my exhaustion has reached such a level that I fell asleep in three of four classes today.

But still, for my readers' sake, I want to try to maintain my journal somewhat regularly. I need people to have some insight into my head, and writing alone is always therapeutic. Of course, what I write in here is always complicated by the fact that my audience is made up of many close friends, and I feel like I have to choose my words carefully to avoid causing concern sometimes. So maybe it's less therapeutic than it could be, but my hope is always that through writing in generalities I will eventually work my way up to opening myself completely.

I can hear the ice cream truck making the rounds on University Place right now. We've had a sudden heat wave this week, and as I type this, I'm in shorts for the first time since probably September, with the window and door wide open and the fan on its highest speed. Today seems a little cooler than the past couple of days, when the temperature got into the high 80s (and maybe the 90s). Still, despite the unpleasant consequences of the heat, I wouldn't go back to the cold for anything. I don't care what people say -- you can't just put on more clothes to avoid the cold. It penetrates you, and it affects your mood. There's a reason people become depressed and burnt out in the winter. I can't get enough sunshine.

The sunny weather has encouraged all of us to loosen up a little and indulge our inner children. We've been making several runs to the drug store to buy cheap water guns to participate in what's turning into a full-blown water war. Right now, I have three water guns resting on my desk right beside my computer, full and at the ready. We've also been enjoying many seriously nonsensical conversations. For example, we had a pathetic number of lengthy discussions on the subtleties of our Hierarchy of Evil (and despite my acknowledgment of the sadness of the discussions, I'm still mad about being demoted from Diet Coke to Sprite).

It's almost dinnertime now, and I haven't gotten in the nap I swore I'd take as soon as classes were over. I think I'll be spending the next ten minutes collapsed on my bed. The likelihood that I will arise again is highly questionable.