Diagnose me.

I think I'm allergic to February. Everything about this month makes me want to hibernate. I'm pale, I'm overeating, I'm cold, I'm tired, I'm depressed, my nose emits a constant stream of liquid which is super inconvenient because the act of keeping used tissues in your pocket is disgusting, I'm bored, I'm uninspired. I have free time but lack the energy to accomplish anything. All month I've been opening Word documents just to close them, writing three lines of a blog before angrily backspacing, clicking that little star next to the subject lines of emails because "I swear I'll come back to this later." Maybe I have Seasonal Affective Disorder or some other harmless malady invented by white people in the first world for the sake of excusing away our bitchiness. Or maybe I just need a vacation. You know what, Blog? I'll let you decide. Diagnose me. I will list my symptoms below.

1. Last week, a guy in my majors-only* English class asked me how to make an outline. Two days ago, while peer-editing papers, he circled a sentence of mine that contained dashes and wrote, "What are these lines for?" Since I did not tear my shirt in rage, turn green, roll my eyes or vomit, I must be sick.
2. I ate so much popcorn last night that the only way I could see fit to neutralize my mouth/stomach was by eating cupcakes. A healthy person would have brushed her teeth or gone for a run or, oh, I don't know, STOPPED EATING THE POPCORN. But I ate cupcakes.
3. I recently attended class in the same shirt I'd slept in... and I didn't change until the following morning. Like... just soak that up for a second.
4. There's enough sunshine this morning that I worked up the energy to force myself into a skirt-- not a spectacular one, mind you, but just the average kind of skirt that a girl might wear from time to time-- and two separate classmates have asked, "Why are you so dressed up?" When people call in the Inquisition because you're not utterly disheveled, you have a problem.
5. My mattress is molding into the shape of my body and there are enough crumbs surrounding me that, frankly, it's only a matter of time before small woodland creatures begin nesting in here.

So what do you say, guys? There are only eleven days left of this hellish month so I can probably survive**, but no promises. Do you have any tips for overcoming Winter Madness? What do you do when you feel depressed for no reason? And does anybody have a forklift to get me off my bed?

Chipotle burritos this year: 1

Subscribers: 45,834

Nail color: Hot pink (I don't remember the brand or name.)

Miles run today: None yet.

Miles run this year: 81

*Just a note to make sure we're all on the same page, here: The kid who asked me these questions is majoring in English at the college level. From this information we can deduce that he 1) passed high school English classes, 2) received satisfactory scores on standardized tests, 3) was accepted to an institution of high learning-- one that turns many people away, no less, and 4) has, you know, written papers before.

**I'm such a heroine. What Chilean miners? I'm sick of winter; that's what matters!

Early

As I sit in an empty hallway with a bag full of textbooks and a laptop on my knees, it is suddenly dawning on me, Blog, that I am psychotic.

At my university, all classes start at ten minutes past the hour. This system was probably adopted to limit scheduling conflicts and to ensure students enough time to get from one end of campus to the other, but I can't help but feel like it summarizes the overall atmosphere of our school: laze in, laze out, take it easy, wear sweats. If you're ten minutes late, you're right on time.

I normally admire the type of people who don't allow themselves to be too consumed with fast-paced anxiety, the ones who find peaceful escapes from stress instead of always Starbucksing their way through the motions. And in a lot of ways, I'm one of them. The problem, however, is that no matter how artistic and writerly and smell-the-roses-ish I can be, I am incapable of being late. Incapable. For fear of holding people up or missing something important, I will always overestimate the amount of time it takes to complete a task or drive to the store or walk up a hill. So, when I tell myself that "Class starts at one," you can bet your ass I'll be there at 12:45.

But class starts at 1:10.
Meaning I'm twenty-five minutes early.
Which is basically half an hour early.
And what do you call the girl who's consistently half an hour early to an hour-long class?

Psychotic. We call her psychotic.


Chipotle burritos this year: 1
Subscribers: 45,321
Nail color: Bare, but watch this.
Miles run today: None yet.
Miles run this year: 70

Hot Geologist

I have a crush on this substitute Geology teacher. He's a grad student, early twenties. Dark hair, scraggly beard, square glasses. Moves his hands a lot when he talks about plate tectonics. He sometimes fills in for our regular professor because she tends to go to Greece quite frequently to look at rocks. I like his teaching style and his cardigan. He's wearing a dark purple t-shirt with some kind of design on it in red-- it might be bullhorns, but frankly, I'm far away enough that it could easily be ovaries. I wouldn't mind either way because it's not like I'm single or going to talk to him. Just a musing.

Meanwhile, a guy behind me just laughed at the word "lubrication."

I don't really have much to say right now, but I thought I'd check in. I just posted a new video to officially announce that I'll be attending Playlist Live in Orlando, Florida at the end of March. Will any of you be there? I hope we get to talk. Maybe I'll bring my plastic recorder and take requests!*

In other news, I went to a Ben Folds concert last week with my friend Hannah and had a phenomenal time. I got to talk to him and some of the band/crew after the show, making me feel like a bit of a badass, if we're being honest. Oh, and speaking of badass, I watched the documentary Catfish last night and about fainted. Highly recommended.

Anyway, I hope you're all having a lovely week. Since this post was boring, here. Have a funny video with hot guys in it. Go watch it and eat something and be merry. Until next time!

Chipotle burritos this year: 1
Subscribers: 44,816
Nail color: None right now.
Miles run today: 2
Miles run this year: 65

*Provided that your request is "Hot Crossed Buns."