Well.

Here I am in the computer lab at school a little before a round of midterms. My feet are wet, they got wet this morning at work, which means 12 hours or so in wet socks. A schoolmate is bringing me dry socks, totally voluntary, and I'm worried that when he gives them to me I'm going to break down in tears.

Sometimes I feel, not only unworthy of bring done things for, but also of having nice things done to me, or having friends, of being paid for work, of taking up any space in the world. That's how it is. On the bad days I tell myself that it's okay because I don't really exist (those are few now) and on the good days I feel a million feet tall and like each step shakes the world (there are few of those nowadays too).

I am beyond burnt out right now, with no end in sight. There is an end on the calendar, though: June, 4.5 months away. That's not so bad, right?