I did over five hours (out of seven) on the issue desk today. Also, this was at the secondary campus, where people are harder to communicate with (either little, if any, English or serious learning disabilities) so it was seriously draining and depleting. This was partly my fault as I was supposed to split the issue desk time 50:50 with my colleague, but I miscalculated and didn’t feel able to ask to switch, but it was also because we had VIPs turn up so I had to do extra time on the desk while my colleague showed them around. My mood was variable, to say the least. Most of the time I was OK, but after a while, doing a boring repetitive task in a gloomy room, my mood would dip (probably also correlating to low blood sugar level as well as tiredness and boredom). I’ve actually just dipped again, which can’t be low blood sugar as I’ve just eaten.
Calvin Coolidge is still my mentor (not words I ever expected to write). Stonewalling is the only way to deal with students who swear blind that they have returned books they have lost. I’m still not good enough at playing psychological chicken like this though and either back down a little (“You can pay the fine next time”) or my colleagues get involved, either at my request or of their own initiative, which is what happened today.
I have been beating myself up again today. I listened to a Hevria podcast (Rivka Nehorai) and felt guilty about not being at all creative any more and generally feeling inadequate compared to Hevria people. I left a loooong comment about art criticism and why I felt it was a good thing. I left a fairly long comment on another post on Hevria too. I suspect that deep down I just want people to notice me and I abuse the blog comments to be seen. It’s like trolling, except that I’m polite and try to say constructive things. I have a vague plan about going to New York in the summer to meet Hevria people (NB: this will probably never happen because I will chicken out for multiple reasons) and today I was imagining meeting Elad, Rivka and others so I could beat myself up in person instead of online. You could say I have issues.
Not only are two women I’ve dated (out of a grand total of six, count ’em) going to be at my sister’s wedding on Sunday (fortunately we still get on), it’s possible that the woman my Mum wants to set me up with will be coming, due to a complicated set of circumstances that I won’t go into here. I’m really not sure that this is a good idea, but don’t feel able to say anything about it and in any case am flirting with the idea of being resigned to being single and virginal forever and never trying to date anyone ever again. Anyway, I’m too busy being apprehensive about the wedding in general to worry about this in particular.
I honestly have no idea how I’m going to get through the wedding. Sundays are the most depressed day for me and I usually do nothing except sleep, eat, procrastinate online and watch a bit of Doctor Who. Saturday is going to be extra draining because I’ve got my uncle, aunt and five cousins staying with my parents for the wedding alongside my sister, so meals (Friday night and Saturday lunch) will be LOUD and draining and there will be an energy and mood debt to be repaid the next day. I’m not sure if it’s good or bad that I volunteered to walk back to the flat and stay there overnight so my cousins can have my room in my parents’ house. It means I have a fifteen minute walk in the cold and dark, but at least I can get some quiet and some personal space on Friday night. As long as that doesn’t feed the loneliness and depression that I’m certain to feel over the weekend, as my sister gets married off and I contemplate being lonely and single forever etc. (did I mention one of my exes who is going to be at the party recently got engaged? I assume her fiancé will be there too, but no one has told me).
I don’t really have anything else to say, having cut a point since coming up with the title, and I feel exhausted, lonely and depressed now and need to go to bed, but I need a sixth point for the Six Characters in Search of an Author joke to work. It’s not even that funny a joke. (This is beating myself up again cf. point 3).