what is going on up here

i never know, man.

god i feel like a fucking broken record lately. what's wrong renée? oh i'm just tired. are you sure, cuz it looks like more than that. um, i'm really tired?

i really hope i didn't fail this last art history exam. one 12pg paper left for that class. and one more manga quiz. i can do this.

teaching, however, is a different story. at least i know now that having night shifts at the writing center the two nights before i teach is a bad idea. yet again, it's thursday, and i have no fucking clue what to do tomorrow. this would be fine except for the part where once i post this, i'mma be busy until about 8:30 tonight. i know that 8:30 seems early, but after a long day that comes toward the end of a long week, i literally have no fucking brain cells left by 8:30 on thursday. so then lesson planning invariably happens on friday morning. which also wouldn't normally be so much of a problem, except that somewhere between may and september, i lost the ability to give a shit, meaning that i no longer have that low-level teaching anxiety that used to naturally get me up at 6 on days i teach. meaning that now it's all i can do to get up in time for coffee and getting dressed, and even that's been a stretch some days. meaning that i painfully fumble my way through my sections and pray to fucking someone that i can find the time to do better next week.

and i haven't even started looking at their 2nd batch of papers.

you know i'm no good

i like how i thought i could do this whole blogging every day thing. oh well. it's not like this is the first time i've failed at something.

i thought i had something to say, but i'm coming up with nothing. maybe tomorrow.

mom genes

i made a lasagna last night.

it took, like, 2 hours (and that doesn't even count cooking time, since i'm not cooking it till tonight). granted, it turned out gorgeously and i'm pretty fucking excited to eat it, and i'm sure that if i cooked all the time i would become a bit more time-efficient, but holyfuckingshit i don't know how some women do that shit everyday. most days the thought of cooking an egg seems like it would take waaaaaay too much energy.

and this is how i end up eating cheese and triscuits for dinner more nights than i'd like to admit.

i'm nearly with you

i forgot to post yesterday. oops. (oh yeah, i also forgot to mention that i'm attempting to do that whole blogging each day for a month thing. hence the recent increase.)

anyway. i'm feeling a little less detached today. not really feeling like a real person yet, but not totally feeling like a zombie, either.

i need to write him back, but i don't quite know what to say. i'm also not looking forward to the fact that, if he even does decide to respond, it will probably not be for weeks or months, thus leaving me in a state of helpless waiting. at least now the ball's (sort of) in my court. and maybe there's still a part of me that thinks that if i just pretend long enough, eventually i'll forget about the fact that somewhere deep down this hurts really fucking bad. like, if i can avoid feeling anything for long enough, this void inside me will just go away (as opposed to getting bigger, which seems to be the reality).

it doesn't help that i also just don't have the time or energy to feel things right now. this is, like, for realz my busiest semester ever. i'm so exhausted all the time, and the semester's only just barely more than half over. it's weird, because the weeks feel like they fly by me (one minute it's monday and the next minute i'm scrambling to come up with a last-second lesson plan on friday morning on a text i didn't even have time to read), but the semester itself is moving excruciatingly slowly.

there's just nothing left

i have to have a lesson plan ready by 8:30 tomorrow on a play i haven't yet read. my eyes feel so heavy that the thought of moving from my desk to my bed seems excruciating.

i really hope i can wake up in the morning.

she cries, and i feel nothing.

i think i'm turning into a dude.

i make me only marginally easy to love

there are a lot of things i prefer over this.

i don't know what to put here either

i'm sorry.

i'm so fucking sorry.

i don't even feel things anymore. not love. not hate. not anything.

i just wish i knew what went wrong. what we did. what i did. what broke us.

i wish i knew how to go back to us. i wish i knew how to get back the me that was me when we were us.

i wish