Finally got through reading (not responding, ha!) to the hundreds of emails that amassed for me at work the day and a half I was off.

Stayed up last night with C, watching Jeepers Creepers, which I had seen before, but shouting at the television about "stupid white people" with C (who is from El Salvador) and their "stupid white people problems" and "oh, goddammit, just run already" made me feel better.

Yes, I know, I'm white.

But at least something isn't trying to eat my eyes.

...that last sentence would not make sense if you have not seen that movie. I don't suggest seeing it, but if you feel like screaming ineffectually at your glowing electrical box, it is a good choice.

I've hit a numb spot.

I suppose that is good, overall.

And I'm going to be trying to go to Florence for a two month creative writing course at the end of May, through my school. When I graduated from college, I regretted three things: never staying in a dorm, never studying abroad, and never going to school full-time without being employed, doing the college student thing.

So, if I do go to Florence, I will be staying in a dorm. I will be studying abroad, and since I am quitting my job near the end of January, I will be finally going to school full-time and actually be able to immerse myself in my classes.

It's going to be expensive (Upwards of $6K). I can't really afford it. I'm going to be applying for the scholarships for this program like crazy.

But I don't want to spend the rest of my life regretting all these things I never did because I was too afraid or didn't have the money. If things go as they look like, I'm going to be debt free by mid-January. Yes, I'm going to be unemployed and broke, but at least it will be done. Functioning on minimum expenses. Focusing on school, writing, scholarships, Master's program application, picking up the odd job, and getting my body back in shape.

Or so the theory goes.

Things never go quite as planned.

Obviously.

Things shift. I can't imagine actually getting everything taken care of, financially and application-wise to land myself in Italy this summer. But it won't happen for sure if I don't try.

I went out to dinner with my parents, sister, and navy housemate last night. My father was running on three hours of sleep, at the same point I get at where babbling becomes normal and laughing to the point of falling over in one's seat is expected.

When I left, he hugged me, held me to him and told me that he would make sure to get me to Italy this summer, that he loved me more than anything in the world, and to watch myself because we're essentially the same person and this time of year is hard for us, with the seasonal depression combined with the chronic depression. He's worried that I'm disconnecting from everything.

My sister is the first of our family not to inherit the depression, even though she takes after my father's side of the family more than I do, at least on a physical level. She's the odd duck, being the normal family member.



...and I just got a phone call that one of my friends killed himself on Wednesday.

Great.

I'll be over here, having another fantastic day.