I didn't get as much work done as I wanted to this weekend, which will suck during the week and all.  However, I was dragged out of the house today to go to a restaurant with roommate and three other people from the department (two third-years and a fourth year) and it was actually enjoyable, despite my initial reluctance in going.

A good chunk of my book for Wednesday was read, at least, though I wanted to at least finish it so I could get to the reaction paper tomorrow.  Though the book is kind of killing me, so I might decide to react to one of the articles instead.


I have this weird desire to write about things but at the same time I don't really know what to say.

Part of me still feels alone, despite this weekend pretty much telling me that I am not.

And I hate that when I am alone, my thoughts drift to him and everything.

Which he does not deserve.