Feeling hot and cold

The weather here has been strange, cold drizzle in the morning, hot sun in the afternoon and I was thinking about all the songs that have to do with rain... And while this has no direct bearing on my *real* life (perhaps it has something to do with the fracturing fractals of my imaginary one?), it kind of sums up my angst better than actually talking about what is making me feel this way (besides, I don't really want to be honest with myself), here is part (but it is really better as a whole) of a good one that has wanted an excuse to be cited...

it just all slips
away so slowly
you don't even notice till you've lost a lot
i've been like one of those zombies
in vegas
pouring quarters into a slot
and now i'm tired
and i am broke
and i feel stupid and i feel used
and i'm at the end of my little rope
and i am swinging back and forth
about you

---A.D. (who else?) "Done Wrong"

You know when you don't realize how rotten you are feeling until someone totally unrelated to you points it out. Especially when it is a generally oblivious, albeit kindly, professor, who asks: "did you not get enough sleep last night?" (ok, it wasn't English, but that was the gist) "um, I don't remember, I don't know..." "Your eyes look really glassy, you are not yourself." "Yeah, I guess," I mumble... and then I remember that for some strange reason I cried myself to sleep last night... somewhere between the regrets and the feelings of impotence, the frustration at not being a better person than I am, and the sheer exhaustion. So while this has no real relation to anything, I am in a bit of a funk, a working funk, a writing funk, a loving funk, and I am highly impatient when by all accounts I should be "happy".

In a little over two weeks I am going on vacation, and I will be "home" (glad to see all you on the east coast : -) but it will be strange being there without M. He just got more design work, which is great for him, and that way he won't miss us too much, but he has also been unwell, which concerns me and makes me feel guilty about leaving him behind. I don't know, I am just feeling lackluster. I only have a smidgen of a paper to write and a little test, tests and papers to grade, a choral concert, oh and we can't forget the Amadis de Gaula, book one, for next week, and then it is all over, but I seem to work better under pressure, and here I am going out with a fizzle instead of a bang. Of course I really have several hundred books to read this summer, and once I am back in town, I will have to lock myself up in the library on campus, or find some other equally work-inspiring space, but I don't even want to think about those things, much less the summer class I will be teaching, or how I am going to pay the rent...

Maybe it is just the weather, after all, and this can all be washed away with a nice hot shower. Ojalá.