Wearing Down
Dec. 14th, 2010 04:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greenstormI'm starting to wear down again. I was starting to be burnt out two weeks ago, before the breakup and the rat babies' deaths, and whatever else they may have been those events were a great shot in the arm. I flew, dragged, crawled, and stomped through the last week and a half, but my fight had been rekindled.
Now I'm just wearing down. Eroding in the shower drain, to steal my own image, under this relentless deluge of work and schoolwork. I'm tired. I can't think well-- taking a series of concepts and turning them into a logical, coherent paragraph is starting to require a combination of singleminded focus and dissociative elsemindedness that leaves me staring into space blankly. Writing this, today, is actively difficult because the momentum grinds down between each sentence and midsentence and leaves me, again, staring out over the empty chairs in the main area at school.
Everyone else is done their exams but us.
I'm pretty sure I won't be able to recover cognitive function in time for the next round, but I'm better prepared now, and so that will balance out in the end. At least I'm not worrying about money and whether there will be a next round-- that gift, especially now, is priceless.
There are so many things I could care about or be excited about, but it's so grey out, the fireplace is dead beside me in the great hall, and it really doesn't seem like being excited would change much.
Now I'm just wearing down. Eroding in the shower drain, to steal my own image, under this relentless deluge of work and schoolwork. I'm tired. I can't think well-- taking a series of concepts and turning them into a logical, coherent paragraph is starting to require a combination of singleminded focus and dissociative elsemindedness that leaves me staring into space blankly. Writing this, today, is actively difficult because the momentum grinds down between each sentence and midsentence and leaves me, again, staring out over the empty chairs in the main area at school.
Everyone else is done their exams but us.
I'm pretty sure I won't be able to recover cognitive function in time for the next round, but I'm better prepared now, and so that will balance out in the end. At least I'm not worrying about money and whether there will be a next round-- that gift, especially now, is priceless.
There are so many things I could care about or be excited about, but it's so grey out, the fireplace is dead beside me in the great hall, and it really doesn't seem like being excited would change much.
