Here comes somnia

Well, I have a big day ahead of me tomorrow and I would like to get some sleep, so I figured I would try some of that blog stuff that the kids are into these days and see what happens.

I can blog. I used to sell papers.

Re : identification, it has occurred to me that I might be able to use my birth certificate in lieu of the BCID I hoped to aquire today. It is a longshot, as most places specify “government issued photo ID”, but at the very least, it gives me something more than my hapless charm to rely on.

I should probably dedicate an entry to my hapless charm and learned helplessness some day.

Which reminds me : I think individualistic society creates a massive nurturing deficit. I think that, as human beings, we need to feel cared for (and about), and modern society, with its emphasis on self reliance, keeps interfering with the fulfillment of that need.

This is especially true for men. Restrictive gender roles keep men from both receiving and offering nurturing, or even asking for it. As a result, many a man harbors the kind of deep nameless resentment that comes from experiencing a deep pain from a source you can’t even acknowledge exists.

This can lead to lashing out in various ways.

(—)

In Journalism class. Blogging is becoming an all the time thing for me.

I feel so impatient today. I hate that. I wish I could relax. WTF? I am so tense! I Feel like jumping out of a window, whether it’s open or not. Man this sucks.

I have had allergy attacks lately, and those cause a body wide inflammatory response. That might be what is making me irritable.

LOL. Guy next to me at the simks in the bathroom, when the towel dispenser doesn’t work : “What a time to be alive.”

(—)

Hmph. Journalism class ended half an hour early, so now I have half an hour to kill. Gee, what to do….

There was some big dealie going on in the main corridor when I was coming inn. I have no idea what it was about. Just lots of people sitting behind folding tables covered in pamphlets, with earnest looks on their faces.

The people’s faces. Not the tables’.

If I had to guess, I would say it was the volunteer fair I vaguely remember reading about. I didn’t have time to chech it out, because on Tuesdays, the bus gets me here with only about six minutes to spare, so I have to get straight to class.

And hell, I am still adjusting to classes and homework. I am totally not ready to add volunteering to that.

Still planning to start a GLBT society though. And the comedy one. I just need to build up my endurance.

Speaking of which…. I am worried about my health. Just walking around Kwantlen tires me out terribly. I feel like I have a dark cloud hanging over me and it is keeping me from connecting with the healthy, wholesome parts of myself.

I am getting no bars on the cellphone of my soul.

I guess I will slouch off to Psych 1200 no. Yay, psychology!

(—)

Or rather, boo. Not boo to psychology, of course. Boo because the class was canceled!

I am getting pretty freaking miffed over these canceled classes. That’s a whole week’s worth of education down the drain! And a semester is what, ten weeks? So that is ten percent of what I am paying for gone without a trace.

Honestly, the university should give a ten percent refund whenever this happens. Fat chance!

And I was looking forward to today’s class, too. This is the psych class that DOESN’T go at an insane rate, and therefore I can fully enjoy it. And we get to talk applied psych, which appeals to a potential future therapist like myself.

I still have not emailed the prof from my other psych, Psych 1100, about the whole speed issue. I suppose I could do that today. i certainly have the time. Grr.

And someone needs to give her the skinny on what is going down. I cannot just assume someone else will do it or has done it.

(—)

Well the 405 FINALLY showed up, and now I am home. Still miffed… but miffed at home.

Oh, for the record, I feel a lot better now than I did before, miffedness aside. I think I was experiencing a low level panic attack, possibly with an inflammatory component to it. All I know is that I was feeling like I was ten pounds of energy in a five pound bag, and about to freaking explode.

But then there was a break in class and I had a chance to go to the bathroom and poop, and afterwards I felt a whole lot better. So maybe it wasn’t energy in that there bag.

Disturbs me to think that I could ne so out of touch with my body that I could mistake full bowels for an anxiety attack, though. Perhaps that was the avenue of escape without actually being the cause.

Whatever it was, I felt a zillion time better after, and was therefore only slightly tempted to jump out a window. That is to say, no moreso than usual.

I am not a well man. But I mean well, and I think that counts for something, especially in times like these.

Oh, and thanks to Felicity, I have had this song stuck in my head all day :

Heard it Sunday night. Oddly enough, was not stuck in my head yesterday. Perhaps my mind needed time to process it.

The opening part is meh, but once it gets going, it’s such an excellent piece of yacht rock that not only does it get stuck in my head, I actually kind of enjoy it being there.

It’s just so pleasant. Repetitive, but weirdly, that doesn’t bother me. And it speaks from that very headspace of the time, deep and yet aloof at the same time. Romantic, but not realistic at all.

And it’s about a chick.

Anyhow, enough from me. I will see you nice people again tomorrow.

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