I always feel like I'm inclined to feel a certain way about Mondays. Either happy with expectations for the week or just constant dreading for the start of it. Today, or rather, yesterday, was really exhausting. I felt myself deteriorating at a faster rate and it was very troublesome. And then my perfect schedule for spring semester was changed because one of the class time was altered. I was unconsciously waiting for a trigger, and as trivial as it seems, that was it.
And then I just spent the next half hour or so bawling. I went to sleep for what I thought was days turned out only to be an hour. I stopped sleeping but I wasn't awake. The world was still a beautiful, horrible place.
It's cold.
I'm cold.
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