Current mood:	aggravated
Current music:	CKY - Infiltrate.Destroy.Rebuild

                Eating the last of the gingerbread spookhouse I had built—one of the front sections with the top of the door—I wonder what I am doing. I know, ostensibly, I am eating week-old gingerbread with icing that I mixed myself, and that it is the very last of this I will be doing in the near future, but at this moment in time, I’m thinking on a much larger scale. What am I doing? Again, ostensibly, I’m in grad school, gaining the knowledge I’ll need to move into my profession of choice and produce the academic work that fuels me more than most other things I’ve tried. I’m living with my girlfriend, whom I love, and plan on spending the rest of my life with. I’m doing what I can to take care of some pets.

                It seems that I should be up to more than this. Shouldn’t I be changing the world the way some of the people around me are? Natalie is involved in organizations that educate and test, MBL sees her clients moving up in the world, changing people’s views of music. My mother is a social worker, and I feel that speaks for itself. I have several friends in art school who continue to improve their skills all the time. I do not teach, nor do I create all that much. I cannot find the motivation to work on the one paper I have for the semester. I managed to do one assignment and submit a paper to a conference committee over the past three days. Yesterday, I spent an hour between the rowing machine and the track, attempting the only form of self-improvement I can stimulate myself into performing.

                I send out messages to try to brighten my friends’ days occasionally, and that gives me a feeling of worth. By and large all I want to do is feel sorry for myself and grenade fish for compliments, but I rarely find that I have the energy for that sort of thing. It could be that the Duke of Nevers has come to make a visit, which is not uncommon, especially after the sun goes down, but that hardly explains my behavior. I’m not constantly depressed; I’m not wholly unmotivated, though I seem to have misplaced almost all of my sex drive as well as my willpower and sense of time. Let me know if you find them.

Duke of Nevers was a name I came up with for my depression. Since I've never been diagnosed with clinical depression, I don't like to say "I'm depressed" or "My depression is flaring up" (as though it were not unlike herpes). As such, I gave it a much more dapper name, and also a much more physical presence in my life. I have a tendency to invite him in to sit by the fire and enjoy hot totties with me. He'll stay for most of the night and possibly on into the next day, unless I get other guests, and even sometimes then if I'm feeling a bit more like a wallflower. I play the gracious host, and never really rush him to be on his way, and I think he knows the door is generally open to him.