Time goes by so slowly...

So, I threw a Hail Mary pass the other day, relationship-wise, and the receiver fumbled on the other end. And that sucks mightily.

My friends congratulate me on my bravery and rational choice in not letting a long and painful LDR limp to its demise. But at the moment, I see no cause to join in and self-congratulate. There's not a lot to say about how I feel, except my main goal is not to burst into tears in public and to make gestures at being functional--as in, go to work, make dinner, work on the dissertation. I don't hold myself to high standards on any of these things; I just want to keep going through the motions so that my life is still in one piece when I stop feeling bad.

But, holy shite! It feels like every minute lasts twenty--which is the opposite of what usually happens when I work. And plus, it is really hot and even more humid. And that has a certain slowness to it that is just exacerbating the problem.

I'm usually so absorbed, quittin' time comes around, seemingly, right when I get started. And now, I mostly want to punch the screen every half second and flee the cafe. But, it wouldn't be any better if I packed up the laptop and went home to mope--the only difference it would make is that I wouldn't have anything done for my new Charlotte Smith chapter, and I would feel bad about that, too.

At least I'm working on Smith's novels and not her poetry--the poetry is like "Good Morning, Heartache" on loop, with flowers.

Not sure I could take that. Too easy to lapse into maudlin poor-me-ism with that sort of thing. And clearly, I'm already squarely in poor-me territory.