Tuesday, October 19, 2004

Irksome. Irritated. Irate.

There is nothing more irritating than being constantly irritated by everyday events. I was only inches away from shaving my head bald because my hair is driving me nuts. The way my fan distorts light annoys me. Everything annoys me. And then, the fact that I'm annoyed annoys me. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

But I honestly cannot decide if this irritation is a symptom of bipolar-ness, or if it's a conglomeration of stress, stress and more stress. Really, I just need to win the lottery and then I wouldn't have to worry about money and I could eat out more, instead of microwaving another tomato slime package of "spaghetti." I haven't declined into the realm of Banquet dinners (which are $1 each here), but I've been tempted.

I've decided that graduate school is not good for my mental health, particularly when you write a decent 11 pager and your professor decides that it doesn't "fit within the perameters of this course" because its scope is too narrow. WHAT?!? If you aren't into academics, NO ONE in this entire history of the world has EVER critiqued a student for having a topic that isn't broad enough! I guess detail isn't her thing. So hurray, I can read 5 more books and write another 10+ page paper to satisfy her quirkiness. GRRRR.

I mean, it's not like Nov. 3, my arbitrary deadline for completing my thesis is rapidly approaching and I only have 35 pages written out of my 100 page goal.

And let me tell you, it's not like the thought of finding a moving company for my Jan. move, planning my wedding and how the f**k I'm going to pay for Christmas presents is stressing me out. Nah.

And stress NEVER exacerbates ANYONE'S mental problems. LOL!

Man, where is a hella productive hypomanic state when you need one? Damn mood stabilizers. I need to kick this crap into gear. If I'm going to have this crappy disease, I might as well be able to manipulate it better than this!

I can tell you one thing. Since I started taking meds and stuff, this crap has only continued to get worse AND the fun parts of this disorder have been swallowed whole by the stupid parts. What is UP with that?

Ugh. When I come off of these drugs to have kids in a few years, I am going to be so curious about how I'll feel after about 6 months drug free. That's not to say that drugs don't work—they do.

But at the same time, all of this crap in the news about antidepressants and Vioxx and the old phen-fen heart attack thingy has to make you wonder, at least a little, whether there isn't something to what all those hippies keep telling us about how corporate America is creating health problems only to sell us a cure.

I mean, I had this elaborate theory about how McDonalds and Jenny Craig were conspiring with the media to make women feel inferior when they read magazines with beautiful models in them, so the women go to Jenny Craig to feel better about themselves but then they watch some movie with models in it and run off to eat away their sorrows as inexpensively as possible at McDonalds. Man, that run-on sentence annoys the crap out of me, but I'm too lazy to fix it.

Let me tell you one more thing before I stick my nose in a book. The #1 worst task to work on when you are annoyed by existence is formatting footnotes and a bibliography. Trust me, you can't imagine how fucking pissed I was when I had to redo commas in my bibliography because I had accidentally used periods. WHO CARES???


Man. I need a vacation.