Post exam malaise has set in. I should be filled with joie de vivre, the world is now my oyster, my time is once more my own and I can squander it as I see fit. I should not sitting wretched in front of draft #246 of an article that I can't seem to find the wit or enthusiasm to write, with shite that I can't be bothered to watch spewing from the TV in the background and the makings of a dinner that I can't be bothered to cook languishing in the fridge. It's 9.30 now and I'm watching the clock, trying to eke my energy out until 10 when I can reasonably retire to bed. I'm exhausted, despite the fact that I didn't get up til 1pm yesterday afternoon and I was back in bed by 10pm last night. It's a dark, cranky tiredness, the kind I know will not bring a good night's sleep despite all the walking I've done today in an effort to tire my body out so that it matches my jaded brain. I'm wary of going to bed in ill humour in case I wake in a sweat at 5am with another nightmare; I had one last night and one bad night always leaves me dreading the next.
Hopefully it's just PMS. I've to go back to the endocrinologist next month and it would be nice to have some progress to report.
Hopefully it's just PMS. I've to go back to the endocrinologist next month and it would be nice to have some progress to report.
