Trouble

with me is that there's something wrong. I know what, but not why. For some strange reason, I've been completely unmotivated this term. It's almost over, and I've done nothing whatsoever towards seeing I complete it and move to the last term next semester. To which - worser still - I am neither moved nor frightened about.

I'm not talking about the usual procrastinate-til-the-last-possible-minute type delay, either. I have enough work piled up to scare the most industrious of students, and I just. Can't. Be. Arsed. And laadeedaa I don't care!

Believe you me, I've tried just about everything: give myself a break (many, accurately), undeservingly treat myself, self-motivate, self-scare, self-slap, do reality checks, consequence checks, etc etc. And no, the look-forward-to is not working an iota of good. No external encouragement of that sort, please. I've become allergic to it, thankyou for trying. But allergy is cause for irritation, and as is, I am already very much so.

The only thing I'm really stressed about is my not being stressed about anything else.

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for you is that you are not in the good books. You said you'd give me the rest of it before you went, and you didn't. I reminded you, as requested, and called. Several times. C'mon - this isn't like you.

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with the head is that it is complicated by the heart. Or the reverse, if you prefer. Why must the complexities and variables that apply often pan out mutually exclusive, even though in theory, they are not?

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is, there's just too much trouble to deal with.

is, I feel so damn tired. I think I need to exercise. Trouble with that, is I hate to.