My days are spent in an unsatisfactory and unchallenging haze. I have no energy to write and am getting more and more restless. I don't want to get out of bed in the morning--I prolong having to start another crappy day until the last damn minute. By the time I get home, I am too frustrated, sad, and overstimulated to write.
I feel like I have been stuck in a very small space for a long time. My mind is always wandering; I can't focus and I have an abundance of nervous energy. Add that to the pissed off thing, and I am a veritable BUNDLE OF GOODNESS, by which I mean the exact and complete opposite of that.
I just want to climb under the blankets with a book and read until I fall asleep. That's all I want to do in the world. And I won't wake up until things are better. Until there's something to hope for again, until there is a plan to execute. I remember the waiting being excruciating last year. I wanted something else to occupy my mind this year, but maybe that's an impossible wish.
I guess that's it. I am going to do some Spanish homework before passing out. I feel like today was an epic fail.