I am coming to you live from Seattle University's computer lab, where the buzzing work atmosphere is pleasantly engaging. It is incredibly nice out. The sky is ubiquitously blue, a rare feat in Seattle, the sun is shining (and brightly so; I am pretty sure that, of all the places I have been, the sun shines brightest in Seattle -- when it does), and it is warm with the perversity suitable for a place where it rains on approximately 183 days of the year, but where one can sunbathe in early March.
It has been a bizzare couple months. I have had the Miami Vice apartment to myself for 5 weeks, gone -- at the same time though with slightly less impetus than Adam -- through states of indecision about my near-future activity plans, and started taking the pill, which has gravely accentuated my psychotic episodes, but made them Swiss-watch regular.
I realize that I haven't really been doing much of late by way of putting my mind to work. School is not nearly enough to make me feel like I am accomplishing something, and I need the feeling that I am being useful. I'm not satisfied (but what else is new?) with my level of energy. I get tired or feel unwilling to do stuff too often for my own taste -- yet I know that this is largely how I am. What I haven't been doing, pretty much for the last couple years, is to force myself to become engaged in an activity. I've been cutting myself too much slack. That's gotta change.