kudzuvines | Resolving Sundays

Somehow... the sun is out, it is beautiful, my roommate is at church, and my weekend was good. But Sundays are the most depressing days I know. There's nothing left, you know you have to get back into the cycle of class and no sleep and sadness and... I hate Sundays, I've always hated Sundays, I think I wrote an entry once about how much I hate Sundays. I said today at brunch to my friend Emily, I like Sundays. But really what I like are Saturday nights, and not having to worry about getting up the next day. I don't like Sundays. I had disturbing dreams about death and meaningless sex and fear and uncertainty and loveless, deadpan voices... I just want to forget them. You know the feeling after a dream, one that is so real that you have trouble understanding that they didn't happen. And my tenuous bubble of happiness (the weekend was good, I went to a good party on Friday and cuddled with people last night) has burst, and while I'm not depressed, per se, I'm just anxious again. I really don't know what to do about Interested Boy, or about Girl, or about... anything, I guess. I'm just tired and I want to go home.

We waited for October, crossed our fingers, crossed our hearts and hoped to die.

And now it's November, and there's a grey pall to everything.