Not sure where to start this one. It's ironic that in the middle of one of the busiest months in my life I feel awkwardly bored and unproductive. I'm scribbling this while taking a break from excruciatingly drab academic writing and in the middle of what I suspect will be the flu (A-a-achoo. Bless me). Yet, I feel ... blah.
Maybe I feel overwhelmed, not bored. There's so much happening all the friggin' time that I don't know where things begin and where they ought to end anymore. Looking at the fax brings heaving convulsions. I'm dodging deadlines I didn't even know existed. Yeah, I really enjoy it when the Hallway Neatness Compendium was due yesterday and I spent all week compiling The Campus Earthworm Demographics Chart.
Wondering how my son is and when I'll be able to see him has become a daily obsession. It's almost like being pregnant again, except he's outside my body and getting reamed by some drill sergeant because some clowns decided to steal donuts from the mess hall. Sucks.