I was putting off writing on here because I wanted to do a "year in review" post like I did last year...but now I'm saying screw tradition. I rely on it too heavily and too often anyway. Maybe in July I'll break down and do some sappy post to the tune of an overplayed Rent song, but for now, I'm just going to keep it real and complain about life for a bit.
It's unfair, you know? Things don't operate the way I want them to. On Friday, coming home from class, I was in the best mood of my week. I've been knocked out with a cold for the past seven-ish days, so my elation on Friday was a big step for me, and it took a lot out of me. I all but crashed on the couch later. Why couldn't that elation last longer? As long as I wanted it? Why can't I get into a good mood on command? I mean, I have my heart set on being happy, and something, some other organ in my body says, "Now now, don't be hasty." Unfair.
All month, when Saturday night came along and Ben and I were discussing where we were going to to go church the next day, I would jokingly say, "I know this little ole church in Chicago that's got an excellent pastor. They also may or may not have sweet plasma screens in their lobby. Waddya say?" and he would say, "Okay. Yeah, we'll wake up at 5:00 am, drive from 6 to 11, and then do it all over again tonight. Sounds good," and I would pout annoyingly until he'd stop looking at me, and we'd end up going down the street or something. Why can't the people around me be more adventurous? Or why can't I have a car so I can go home whenever I want? Or why can't my house and my church and everything and everyone I love be closer?
Today, I haven't left my room since waking up because I feel like a) I can get kind of annoying to my friends and never let them have their own alone time or whatever and b) I never let anyone come to me, and I'm in a not-so-hot mood, so them approaching me is a better mood anyway.
Number of hours I've been in awake in my room - Five.
Number of visitors I've had - Two. My roommate and her boyfriend. The former has left, the latter is either napping or reading xkcd on his laptop on my roommate's bed. So win, I'm not alone. But lose, because I don't know this guy and we're sitting in complete and awkward silence. Kind of like what my roommate and I do when she's around. It's...awesome.
Meanwhile, I can hear my friends down the hall talking about going rock climbing. It's not like I've expressed an interest in doing that or anything...
Yes, I realize I'm being impishly pouty and emo and selfish. But sometimes you just want people to remember to care about you without you having to remind them.
The moral to my sob story is this:
I miss my family. I miss my real friends. I miss not having hormones raging through me like the galloping Rohirrim. My happiness is not a hoard of Uruk-Hai, geniuses. I want this piece of crap mood to go away, but I'm going to be stubborn and wait for someone to come take it away instead of being intelligent and mature and walking out and having fun.
I want to be selfish. I'm sick, dang it. And I had to make my own Ramen. This is so poopy pants.
