Judy Garland Would Be In Heaven

I should be writing the final paper for one of my classes, but no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get the words to come out in the correct order. They feel awkward and forced, and not nearly as eloquent or intelligent as the concepts I have racing around in my head. I stare at my computer screen for what seems like endless amounts of time, but to no avail... The words just will not do what I want them to...

So instead, I'm going to laud the virtues of Tropical Rainbow Sherbet, my new favorite treat. It starts off so rough and icy, and melts into the most divine creamy liquid of deliciousness it's ever been my pleasure to encounter. I try to restrain myself from gulping it down in a few careless but oh so heavenly bites so I'll have more of that liquid joy to savor, but it's no use, I have no self control when it comes to this neon delight. It tastes just as bright and vibrant as it looks, but isn't nearly as heavy as regular ice cream.

I've found the elusive rainbow's end, and it's in my ice cream bowl.

You Are What You Eat

My milk has gone sour, my fruit has shriveled, even my carrots have become slick from neglect. Most disturbing of all, my cream cheese has become moldy. Strangely enough, my English muffins and bagels have maintained their integrity and not succumbed to the gods of food decay. I guess life really is full of little surprises. I've been living on an erratic diet of Coke (the soda, not the powder), Starbuck's Chai tea and Lean Cuisines...No wonder I feel so fucking fabulous.

I've always had a sharp mind, able to remember numbers, birthdays, appointments without the need for calendars or planners. Now I can't remember to grab my purse before I leave class. I lose my words, simple words that I've used thousands of times since I learned them.

I want to sleep all the time, but when it's actually time for bed, I just lie there. Too exhausted to get up, yet unable to let sleep find me. So I drug myself up, which doesn't actually lead to restful sleep, but at least it makes me feel like I'm accomplishing something. I alternate between being freezing cold and sweating, uncomfortably hot beneath my covers.

It scares me.

The 'Y' Factor

I hate everything with a Y chromosome right now... Dogs, cats, that chipper little bird chirping outside my window. In fact, I just went out and bought a magnifying glass so that when I'm in a particularly bad pique of rage, I can go outside and incinerate bugs that I think are behaving in a particularly male fashion.

There's something empowering about anger. I've wavered between depression and anger for quite some time now, and I always feel so much stronger, so much better about myself when the angry phase hits. Unfortunately, I'm not an angry person by nature, and so I'm not able to sustain the anger that gives me a much needed respite from my woes.

So, being the typical person who lacks a Y chromosome, I'm going to go drown my sorrows in some cake batter ice cream and then force myself to go out and be social. I don't imagine that plan of attack will work well, but anything's better than sitting in my room alone, with no one to notice my tears, wondering what's wrong with me, why I'm not good enough.