Saturday was the Day on Broadway. I got to see Avenue Q, which was fucking hysterical, and to walk around New York City with Mary and Sarah, which was a lot of fun despite feeling like I was going to keel over for a significant portion of it. We almost went to MoMA but it was too expensive, we almost went to Chinatown but it was too far, but we did go to the Big Gay Ice Cream Shop and Mary and I got Salty Pimps, which were yummy, and then we went to an awesome Japanese restaurant for dinner.

All in all, it was totally worth it, but... fuck, 12 out of 24 hours on a bus is just way too much time on a bus.

Today was the choir concert, which went swimmingly, after which Shane's mother took us to dinner at the Fargo, and the last session of Little Fears, which I actually survived, and so did my entire family, so... go team Tony.

I should be happy. I should. I really should be happy.

But I feel so goddamn discontent.

And part of it is my stupid, ridiculous, abiding, pathetic crush, which seems to wax and wane like the moon as far as my difficulty dealing with it goes. And part of it is that I have like 20 pages to write in the next two and a half days, and I don't know when I'm going to have time to do them all. And part of it is that I have had a headache for what feels like a week even though it's only been a couple of days. And part of it is that I'm ridiculously sleep deprived and that always makes me more miserable. And part of it is that my computer is fucking overheating again.

I wish I had fewer problems. I wish I could cope better with the problems I do have. I wish I could just sleep for a week. I wish I didn't have to go home in eleven days. I wish, I wish, I wish, and if wishes were fishes we'd be eating salmon every night in the dining hall.

Today I wrote a stupid poem, and a sonnet. The sonnet is about how much I don't want to graduate and it ended with an allusion to suicide. I'm so fucking cheerful.