I can't sleep. Despite the fact that it's 11:30, despite the fact that I got in bed when I felt tired an hour and a half ago.
Tonight I feel like the loneliest person in the world. Which is entirely ridiculous, I know, I just feel so...blah. I'm not sure why. I tried to go through this all in my journal earlier, because I don't really understand myself right now. There is so much that's good and exciting about life, and yet today and yesterday I have had such a hard time being psyched. It might be an unemployment-induced torpor, I'm not sure--you know, feeling useless because you're not being productive or something. But it's not like I don't have stuff going on. I'm volunteering at twenty million different places (slight exaggeration;), I'm learning exciting new things, I have all this stuff I want to work on, and yet the activation energy required to start any of it today--or maintain it once started--has felt enormous, insurmountable.
It's possible that I'm getting sick or something. Or that I haven't run or for-real exercised for the last three days and am just in some sort of endorphin withdrawal. Whatever it is, I don't like it. I don't like this odd and hugely uncharacteristic feeling of lassitude, of ennui, of boredom with life. (Though I do like those words!:) And it's funny because if I sit down, like I did just now, to think of all the great, amazing things I've got going on, there are lots. So why am I here on my computer at 11:36 now, spilling my guts because I can't sleep and I don't know what else to do with myself?
Heh. I'm going to think I'm such a pathetic crazy person tomorrow if I actually post this. But I guess I will, just for the sake of perspective. It's balance, I guess: without sadness, happiness is not as meaningful; without stupid pathetic posts, the ones where all I do is fricken spout about how happy I am don't seem as awesome;)