So I have a journal where I'm posting all my poetry for this semester.

If you are even remotely interested in my amateur poetry, or want to offer criticism, it's metaphorliteral.

I am very tired and I spent a couple of hours today feeling really depressed, but I'm fine now. I fucking hate being bipolar. I wish someone could fix me. It wouldn't be so bad if my manic episodes lasted longer than a couple of days. I could use a good manic streak right now and get some shit done, but no, depressed. And lonely, which is stupid when I am surrounded by friends, and participating in so many clubs. I am literally in six clubs as of this moment: SAGA, Sex Collective, Campus Greens, Psych Club, Tea Time Club, and Sugar High, which is the baking club that just met for the first time tonight. Also I am participating in Nerf War and two roleplaying games. If I could just remember people's names I would be so popular.

The whole day wasn't bad-- Amy Staples is back from Florence, so I'm not the only person in Cleveland any more. Amy Torea will be back on the 12th. And Gender, Power, Lit & Film was good, even though I sound like a moron because half the things I say in that class are wrong, but as long as Lohn doesn't actually look at me like I am brain damaged, I'm going to keep speaking up. And I got to talk to Kristie Zieler today, who thinks I am getting manic, but I am pretty sure she won't think that any more when I meet with her on Monday.

I mostly started getting depressed after I went to the library and the journal I need wasn't in the stacks, and ILL refuses to get it for me because it says it SHOULD be in the stacks, so I have to email the ILL lady and say "hey, I really actually need this please", and then the book I needed on reserve wasn't there, so I ended up leaving without getting anything done. I came back later for the reserve book, and then I wrote some shitty poetry about feeling sad and the rain, which is just so cliched, but whatever, I have ~FEELINGS~ and I need to express them in a way that isn't crying or doing something embarrassingly attention-whorey.

Also I was sad because my rats are little fuckers and chewed off a sleeve from the Renfaire dress my parents bought me on my 24th birthday and that I only got to wear once. I might be able to cut the sleeve straight and cut the other one off and wear it again, but my fat arms will be on display and it won't be as pretty as it was supposed to be. I actually seriously considered killing them for about fifteen minutes, but I don't have the stomach to kill anything. All they do is make my life more difficult, though. I never should have got them.

On the bright side, I am loving the new album by St. Vincent, Strange Mercy. I've been listening to it all day. And Ben and Jerry's is coming out with a Schweddy Balls ice cream. And Stephen Fry is going to be naked in the next Sherlock Holmes film, which... would have been more appealing 20 years ago but I'm still not going to say no to that.

And hopefully tomorrow will be better. I just wish it would stop fucking raining.