Enjoy. Or not. Just do whatever. That's what you're best at anyway.
They say there is a fine line between genius and madness. It would be putting on airs to say that I used to walk on just this side of genius. That’s not for me to say, history will make that judgment call. But I can say that I am probably currently tiptoeing my way along the path of madness. Here are some examples. I’ve put them in a list format because, let’s be honest, when you’re crazy it’s hard to organize your thoughts.
1. I recently had the thought (and it was a serious one) that perhaps I could ask all of the PSY 002 students that want to copy my notes to wash their hands before they touch my notes. I’m just saying, it would make me feel a whole lot better if they all had clean hands before touching my stuff. Alternatively, how feasible would it be for me to supply them with disposable gloves that they had to wear? I think this pretty much illustrates a clear descent into madness…but wait, there’s more!
2. I had a severe headache on Friday. It made me nauseous and I might have ended up getting up in the middle of my class and going to the bathroom to sort of dry heave and then expel liquid. Yes, that is what happened. Then I returned to class, looked at the professor and said, “I kind of just threw up, I have to go.” Which, given my nature was a fairly non-melodramatic exit. Although I did walk back into a discussion and then leave, but still, pretty mellow. At any rate, I had a headache on Saturday and on Sunday. Buy stock in Advil. I guarantee they are making loads off of me. Anyway, I think the headaches might be stress related. So…and this is the best part…I’ve been worrying about them. Yes, I’m stressed out about being stressed out. The fact that I might be stressed out, is in fact, definitely stressing me out. It’s a vicious, vicious cycle. It’s also a sure sign of the apocalypse.
3. I had a mini-mental breakdown the other day, complete with hysterics and lots of snot that resulted from a tiny slightly heated discussion with Zach. I was trying to explain something to him and he wasn’t seeing what I was saying, then he started to tease me (by pretending that he still didn’t get it) and I started to sob. It was awesome. I then went through every point of my day and tried to explain why I thought I might be crying. The best part? I’m still not sure what it was during the day that was so upsetting. I think it was just a combination of things. But I didn’t (and don’t) feel that “stressed”. I feel busy. I feel anxious sometimes, but I also feel pretty good most of the time. I’m thinking that perhaps I’m developing two personalities in an attempt to keep all the crazy suppressed. I have one personality that feels everything deeply and the other one maintains that everything is ok. The one that maintains that everything is fine is often in charge, but it’s getting harder for her to keep the crazy in order.
4. I think the people upstairs are trying to kill me. No, just kidding. I don’t think that. That would be crazy. I think that the people upstairs were sent by the devil to drive me insane though, and I think it’s working. My apartment is directly under the apartment that last year had a fire. Apparently the kid was on his couch smoking…when he fell asleep. And let me tell you something: if you are too tired to keep awake, then perhaps you shouldn’t be smoking. How the hell many people have to be involved in fires from cigarettes that ignited something while they were sleeping before we legislate this shit? People should not be allowed to smoke while sleepy. It should be a law, everyone should write their local Congressman (or in Adam’s case the Congressman of his choice). But I digress. Anyway, there are workmen in the apartment upstairs who come while Zach and I are at work and make all sorts of noise. I was dimly aware of these people on the few days that we have been home before 5. On Friday, in the midst of some special head pain, I was trying to lay down and get a little nap, when I was awoken (read: startled into sitting position and sort of a little bit wet my pants) by the loudest noise I have ever heard indoors. I have no idea what the hell they were doing up there, but it was so loud that I couldn’t handle it, I had to leave the apartment. For the most part, you don’t hear noises like that coming from above. Here’s what you do hear (as I hear it now while I sit at home): you hear men dropping things. That’s the only explanation. I think they just walk around dropping hammers and other heavy objects. It’s not hammering. There’s nothing rhythmic about what goes on up there. Just random dropping of heavy objects. I can’t imagine what Special Olympics (no actual offense intended) building crew they hired, but I think it is all part of the plot to drive me mad…and well, fellows, good job, it’s totally working.
That’s about all I’ve got time for now. I have to go finish counting the number of tiles that I have on my kitchen floor. Plus, I feel dirty and need to wash.
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