Here's to Good Friends Who Get You Through Catatonic States

I am lucky to have a really great roommate to get me through/put up with me in this brief dysfunctional time of my life. Living with me at the moment, is probably comparable to being a caregiver at one of those group homes. I am super out of it and unusually emotional. This may or may not be due to the impossible amount of work that must get done by the end of this week. I am going to go with it may.

So, my roommate Amy has done a really good job taking care of me and making sure I don’t you know, drop a few developmental levels. During the past few days, I've either neglected the arduous task of eating, or have subsisted on the animal crackers currently next to me in a bucket on the floor. Last night, I had what one could call a slight emotional breakdown—catalyzed by the 9:00 hour approaching on the clock of doom, and the realization I was nowhere near done with my paper. It would be another all-nighter. And after that, I would still have two more papers to go. The tears began to flow.

Feeling bad for me in such a helpless state, and knowing I would probably not think of eating, Amy made me breakfast the next morning. Yeah! I actually didn’t eat it until 4:00 p.m. today because I was busy (yes after it’d been sitting out all day), but it served the purpose of dinner. Right now, I am so annoyed with hunger. I don’t have time or money to eat. It really bothers me that we are physically required to eat. It is a pain in the you-know-what to have to eat during times like these.

Anyway, back to my roommate. So then, after providing me with sustenance, and knowing I would most likely be finishing my paper up until the last second like usual, she offered to drive me to school. Every minute counts my friends, every minute counts. It was awesome. I think I got like, five more accurate footnotes in because of the ride. As I was leaving, she also saved me from going catatonic in frustration of my ever-elusive keys. I could not find them. Again. I shouted out the window, "I can't find my stupid keys." She's like,“there in the bathroom.” I went into the bathroom, and what do you know, there they were. Peacefully lying on the counter after I had violently trashed my room in a desperate attempt to uncover them. I think the ability to know where your keys are is a spiritual gift. That would be a great spiritual gift to have. Even better than um, prophesying.

So anyway, props to Amy for keeping me alive during the volatile life stage I am currently undergoing. Hopefully, it will be over by Friday. So it’s like 5:50, and I still haven’t slept a wink since I awoke Sunday at 11:30 p.m. No time. I kind of want to make it rain one giant snowstorm with all my stupid homework and readings I have to do right now. Plus, I think I am seriously coming down with carpel tunnel from typing in an extremely ergonomically incorrect position for about…. hmmm…. 18 hours straight. Not even kidding. Bllaahhhh. Oh well, I guess I'll raise my Diet Coke to another 24 hours of carpel tunnel, exhaustion and avoidant behaviors. It's the little things that make life worth living:).