It's 3.36am as I'm writing this. Been some tough times for me lately. Clover being here has been good, and nice in many ways, but in many other ways Too Much.

When I'm stressed I need space - not always to be alone, which is a plus for Clover being here - but I definitely need space. So having this week be American College Roommate week has been really hard. Today I needed to just cry for a while but didn't want to draw attention to it, so I had to do it in the loo, which felt incredibly strange.

She was in Paris from Tuesday to Wednesday but I still couldn't get myself to actually work on the dissertation in active way; most of my work was passive background. I don't know, when I tried to do more my stomach would turn over until I was nauseated and crying. I think having my birthday and Clover visit within one dissertation slot (between a meeting and a deadline/another meeting) was just too much for me this time around. I got lost. Plus, I was feeling so nerve-wrecked by my other coursework (much of it group work) I felt I had been ignoring that I really just had to do it. I still have much of it left, but I feel closer to the target with that.

It was just a bad time for the dissertation when balancing life, coursework and my mental stability (or instability, as the case is). I know it's not a permanent thing. I'm sure some things will settle down next week when Clover is gone.

I still dread tomorrow's meeting with Nick-the-supervisor. I've never come to him with so little; I am ashamed. I also know that he couldn't possibly beat me up more than I have beat myself up unless he punches me with a fist, so I shouldn't dread my time with him more than I dread the time within my own mind. It's still painful and frustrating to have disappointed myself; I have honestly never felt this disappointed in myself, academically if not in general.

Clover also saw me cranky today. I usually try to keep that away in real life interactions, especially as we've only been friends for a few seasons.

Today I brought Alishia-the-old-housemate's Christmas lights up to my room since I'm the only one who ever turns them on when they're on the stairs; I don't think anyone will mind. I'm hoping the low lighting will calm my nerves and mind. I've always loved low lighting/faerie lights. Mainly I'm hoping that tomorrow after the meeting I'll feel better and more capable, rather than filled with dread.

Ack, shucks. I really want to use the loo before bed but Pirate is downstairs boinking a girl who seems rather vocal about her enjoyment. I already had to go down the other day during similar activities and bang on his door to lower the music volume; I'd rather stay away from his room during those times now.

Here I am, trying to stay sane. Now I'm going to curl up with my blanky and teddy bear in my land of soft lights and hope that I can catch a few hours of sleep. I still think that Nick will know I'm a mess as soon as he looks at me. Four weeks. I have four weeks. My brain is torn between wanting to work until I faint and wanting to cry until I'm dry. Darn you, brain, please start working again!

♥
Kiwi

"The bluebird sings a lullaby; the firefly gives a light; the twinkling stars are candles bright; sleep, Faeries all, Good Night."
[Elizabeth T. Dillingham; "A Faery Song"]