I haven't updated recently due to apathy. It's a bugger, but so easy to succumb to. Life hasn't been particularly interesting either, I suppose. A selection of being hot, being lonely and being asleep. Speaking of being asleep, I had an awful nightmare a few hours ago. The details are getting fuzzy now but it was truly horrifying for me and I woke up slathered in sweat. The nightmares are a side effect of my medication, especially as I'm on so high a dose, but I'm reluctant to try a lower dosage in case the depression comes back and I stop being able to cope. I know I'll have to reduce it at some point, I just don't want to do it yet.
Spent Sunday in the company of my parents. This isn't exactly my favourite way of spending my time, but it was unavoidable as I had to print out some photographs of the work I've done at Swarthmore to show at my interview on Thursday. Dad had bought me bagels and hummus even though he'd asked if I wanted him to buy me any food for the short time I'd be there, and I'd said no. I resisted bringing them home too, which he wasn't happy about, but no doubt my thighs were.
Yesterday at Swarthmore was a mixed bag. We were doing lino block printing again, and I wasn't happy with my creation, especially when you saw what everyone else was making. I became disheartened and depressed, as I had become in the morning when everyone was being so noisy and I couldn't get any peace and I kept cutting all my glass pieces wrong. I'm making another stained glass window, but despite all the delays and problems, I still managed to cut all my pieces, around 35 of them, in the lesson, which impressed everyone else.
Some snippets of conversation from yesterday:
A classmate was saying that her husband's mother is getting to the age where she's becoming very forgetful. At the weekend she discovered three tv remote controls in her handbag. One was hers, but she has no idea who the others belong to, especially as she can't remember who she's been to see.
Someone else said that her husband's cousin died a fortnight or so ago. They found out as they had rung up in a general, friendly manner to enquire after his health which had been failing recently, to be told the news by his work colleagues. He had been a doctor, you see, and his handwriting was that bad that they couldn't read his address book to notify his friends and family of his death. His wife was no use either as she'd died a month before. It's not nice to laugh at, but I can't help but smirk.
09:32
