I've been working on this product currency exam most of the day today (when I wasn't out to dinner or at Mass or anything) and I'm just about done, but you know? I'm tired of it. I'm putting it up and will finish it in my spare time tomorrow. I'm tired of looking at this computer screen, tired of being stuck in my office from one end of the day to the other, and at this stage of the game, they're just going to have to wait for me to finish it. If they don't like it, they can lump it. The guy who's supposed to grade it is the one that had me all screwed up yesterday, leaving out the pieces of the manual that I needed, so as far as I'm concerned, he's the reason I'm late with it. I have a life, too.

We had dinner with our friends who moved here from the South Side a few years back. Linda has been a friend of Mary's since high school, and her parents are really nice people. That doesn't mean things have always gone smoothly, but hey, they're family; does anything ever go smoothly in a family all the time?

I need to get to bed. I'm getting up at 5 tomorrow morning and hoping to get to the office by 7, so I can lug these behemoth books up to the classroom and put them together. I can't forget my hand truck...there's no way I can carry all of this crapola across the parking lot without some help. Hell, I'm short of breath just bringing myself that distance. I know, I need to exercise and lose weight. I keep telling myself that I'm going to do it, but somehow it eludes me.

I'm starting to think that maybe I'm borderline depressed, and I should try something like SAM-e or St. John's Wort to see if either of those picks me up. Seriously, it's like there are a million things that I want to do, that I have to do, that I need to do, and somehow all I can do is think about it. I know I'll feel better if I get some writing done, if I exercise some more, if I lose weight, if I get back to playing the guitar, if I set myself down and get things done before the last minute, but somehow that version of me never seems to be the one in control. The one who seems to have possession most of the time is the one who can't get it into gear unless I'm sitting on a deadline about four hours away, and even then can only get things into semi-gear, the one who's always tired, the one who sits in front of the computer and plays solitaire while thinking about writing, or playing the guitar, or doing something productive with my time.

I don't know.