I may not be able to go back home this summer, and so am trying to plan some nice thing for me to do involving the new Harry Potter book and other addictions that need to be fed soon. Mostly writing and reading different sorts of things, and cleaning things.
Am thinking about making my book about writing, and beginning to write, and writers. It won't be quite publishable, maybe, because it will be all in fun, but we shall see. I don't know yet. I've hardly known what all this has been about until recently.
So, yes. It may be a terrible summer and I may hate the heat and frighten myself out of my scarce wits. I am discouraged, a little. But on the other hand, I may get to go with my previous plans and all may be well. I don't KNOW. Gah, I hate that. We shall see.
Spring break is nearly half-over, and I begin to feel the push of those assignments upon me, to finish and complete. Why am I so unhappy? It seems unconscious, even. This stupid mood is taken hold of me.