up too early

So strange for me to be up before 10 when I don't have any reason to be whatsoever. And I can't put my finger on anything. I went to bed late(ish) so certainly I'm not well rested. My only guess is that a) the sun is coming up a little earlier and b) there's someone sawing something loudly next door. Although, to be fair, that's been happening for the last two years, so nothing new there.

So, what did I do with my first hour of glorious awakeness? Well, I looked at all of Oxford's statistics, checked e-mail about 100 times, and played on facebook. The moral of the story is that I would have been better served, probably, by staying asleep. I'm a little confused, seriously, why that didn't happen.

All I know is that I'll probably need a nap later. Kind of boo.

And I really wish that I had spent that hour more meaningfully because I won't ever get it back and because I will probably do all those other useless things 300 times today, again. Alas.

But, whatever, I should be celebrating because I have nothing to do on Mondays and get to languish in bed for hours at a time doing worthless, trivial things that have nothing at all to do with anything. Sometimes it's great to be a fourth semester senior.

In other news: there isn't really any. My life is full, certainly, but not of the type of thing that usually finds its way to these pages. I realized that I usually post about the downsides...the negatives...the things I'm so frustrated about I feel like I can't actually share them with a real person. Since I've got none of those things to complain about, I have just been making random "aaaah" postings. While I'm sure these posts are fun for me to write, they don't really add much substance or demonstrate much of the joy and complexity of life to others. Suffice it to say that I feel like I should be writing about substantive things instead of nothing. I'll try, but I'm not saying everything.

I feel like, sometimes, the most worthwhile things in life are the ones we hold so close to our heart that we don't share them with people as a mass, just with the one or two other people to which they matter. I think that might be best about 98% of the time. The other 2% I feel like is what I should be writing about. I think the whole point of writing is to share beauty, splendor, wonder, and happiness with others. Especially once I've gotten some of it. These things, though, can be so elusive. And right now the things that make me smile are connected to things that are mine alone, so I'm going to take them, run with them (possibly even literally), and let you know when myself and things come crashing down. Hopefully, though, it will be laughing in the grass instead of sobbing on the pavement, but I still think either is worth a journey full of meaning, exchange, and growth.

All endings are happy if you believe in the power of the story that brought you there.

And right now, I do.

melting

Williamsburg, Virginia is a hole of despair and a vacuum that sucks up all forward motivation and positive energy and spits it out on the other side--somewhere I'm not.

I want nothing more than to feel the same sort of hope that I felt in the middle of the summer; I knew where I was going in life and that it would all be okay. A month later and only two weeks into the semester, I'm not so sure.

Obviously, I am going to be fine. Sadly, though, this town is 0 for 4 with providing non-awkward social situations, time to spend with people who are actually worthwhile, things to do on a regular basis that don't suck, and meaningful ways to spend time alone.

I actually think I might go to the gym now, even though I should be doing work. Sitting in the sauna and then taking a cold shower may be the only way to get rid of the grossness I feel from being outside all day doing sorority recruitment.

My friend called and seemed upset. He wanted to talk. I've felt this nagging nausea in the bottom of my stomach since then; I'm worried about what might be going on. I never want to think the worst, but I always do.