I watch something, some House, for forty or so minutes, and when I come out of it I suddenly realise how exhausted I am. Not physically, but mentally, emotionally. Watching things lets my mind quiet down, which allows me to experience mental exhaustion. You know how when you're in it you can scarcely see it?
I should be resting, really. I'm still not fully well.
So much reading, so much writing, so much social contact. Makes me so tired.
But I don't really want to stop though. What will happen to me if I stop? What will be left of me? There's nothing really to me at the moment, aside from my work. It unnerves me slightly that this is true. That's quite a masculine condition, isn't it? Like becoming my father.
Today I will go to the library, but I'm not sure if I can muster making food. I was talking to Alex about this yesterday, how discouraged I feel by the fact that I can't just... eat. I'd like to just be able to pick up stuff from Tremough shop as and when I'm hungry, or eat at the cafeteria, but my gluten intolerance prevents me from that. I have to make lunches in advance, and it's so tiring.
I guess that's just part of growing up. Getting into a routine so making yourself do tedious things isn't quite so tedious.
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