Dolor

          Yesterday, it was forty-six degrees out, mostly sunny, with a light breeze. By rights I should have been bouncing off the walls and gooey with springtime happiness.
          It was the first time in living memory that a day like that failed to lift my mood.

          But, it didn't matter much, because my saving grace didn't take the form of sunlight. Instead, a friend of mine returned to campus from her term abroad in New York. The collective happiness in seeing her, spread among our friends, was staggering. It got everywhere, making us giddy and gelastic. We went out for sushi and ice cream, squashed six people into a five-person car, laughed uninhibitedly in public places, squealed in an irritating manner and squeezed the air out of our lungs with affectionate arms.
          Thoroughly ridiculous. Thoroughly wonderful.


          And yet I woke today with a leaden feeling. Which is odd, because I've always been a morning person. Usually I wake up disgustingly cheerful, unfortunately lucid, and alert. I've always woken up happy, relaxed, rested, breathing in deeply, stretching, luxuriating. Maybe I had upsetting dreams - if so, I forgot them on waking, and was merely left with a hollowness in my throat and ribcage.

          [This is all charade - I know the reason for this discoloration and dolor, but if I find another cause, then I can do something more proactive about it than just waiting it out.]

          In the meantime. I have two twelve-page research papers to write (and research ... ) and a thirty-page response paper to write for my Vonnegut course. And a couple cumulative exams I still need to study for. These, of course, don't do a whole lot to improve my mood.
          But I'm definitely looking forward to the summer. I'll be (hopefully) living in an apartment with friends. Cooking for ourselves. Time to sew and be crafty. Time to make use of the fitness center. Time in general.
          Let's just make it through the next two weeks.