black eyes

The swelling yesterday got up to a level of "seriously uncomfortable" and overnight has decreased to "chipmunk with two black eyes." At least I'm work-functional right now, 52 hours later.

I need to put the last paper (ever) to bed (finally) and start cramming for a final.

This point in my life is a strange transition. Other transition periods there has been a stretching unknown, a real confusion about what lies ahead. Everything more existential.

Now, I am here, and place in the world, path in the world, is kind of evident. A job. Bills. Relationships. It's weird to be in such a good place and feel so ambivalent about it, not excited, not disappointed, just neutral. We climbed this mountain only to find it was a hill like all the rest. My work ethic has been gradually reduced to minimums; achievement isn't supposed to look like that, I'm not really sure I know what achievement looks like anyways, the closer I get to examples of it the more I think it's a great fiction like 'Democracy'.

Excuse me, Madam Caulfield.