Poor Captain. As he pointed out, half in jest, to me several times, he is the the ex-boyfriend that counselled me over the gruelling period of eight hours. I thought he deserved a pat on the head for that. So this entry is about his patience and dedication (or his silly infatuation) to this little moody person. Sigh. I wish we weren't in this stupid long distance situation.

Erhm. Anyway. Well, I was instructed not to go to bed at six in the morning and get some grub into me, do some work and then dream til Sunday brunch.

The optimistic bit of the entire session goes like this. After I worked out the exact and immediate causes of my anger and frustration, (which was, in order of aggravation: money problems with Paladin, stupid rumours, the dumb male of The Matched Dolls, stress over my essay and lack of sleep and food), my essay clicked into place. I have churned out an additional 700 words that made sense, in the last hour and a half to complement my 600 word introduction. Hooray! I still 6 more points to raise, and 1800 words to go, but I can safely say that this essay is well on its way to completion for Monday.

Drat. I still have my supervisor to see on Monday. And I still do not have a proposal draft ready. Oh well, first things first. Essay, then proposal. Will I be able to do it? Or will the girl just succumb once more to sheer pessimism? Who will take the bet?

Life is looking cheerier already. It isn't happy, happy, but at least I feel like I am moving, perhaps even forward. A much better state of affairs than the last few days of stasis.

Incidentally, a tarot reading did predict money as a contributing factor to friendship problems. I wonder about those readings. They are eerie in their accuracy. And the BF (or ex-BF) will just roll his eyes in disgust at my naviete. Not my fault. It's how my brain works.