Friday, November 18, 2005
Some mornings I arise with the persistent feeling that I am fat. It has nothing to do with whether I actually am or not, for I felt thus certain days when I weighed one hundred fifteen pounds. Rather, I conclude that I am an ugly person, my life possesses no meaning, and I am a leech upon my friends and in a more general sense, society itself. Basically, I want to curl up into a hedgehog position and moan senselessly.
I do not want to go to classes today. I would rather not attend Novemberfest this evening. I want to go back to my tent bed and pretend I am responsible for nothing.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 7:50 AM]