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Date: February 7th, 2020.

Time of Writing: 10:11 PM.

Weather: Heavy wind, frigid cold.

Mood: Downtrodden.

Day Overview: Some days are universally garbage. These are the days that kick you in the chest. The ones that punch your teeth in. The ones that mug you in an alleyway in the dead of night. Then there are days that sing your praises. Days that are made to want you. Days that accept you entirely as you are and guide you through the world by the hand. Bad days. Good days. Some days fall cleanly into one of these two categories. You remember the good days. You remember the bad days, too. You remember, specifically, the best and the worst of days. There's something in these, something like a lesson, or there's a story, but there's something to remember.

What, then, are we to make of the days that don't fall cleanly into either group? The meh days that might step on your untied shoelaces and simultaneously give you a pat on the back. The ones that kiss your cheek while stealing a dollar from your pocket. What do we do with those?

Today was one of those days. I did nothing for most of it. Sat around in my room, glad that I had the day to myself. Didn't go to get breakfast, just popped down to the vending machine for some pop-tarts. Didn't care that I was in my pajamas and my hair was a mess. That was somebody else's problem. I came back up, ate, and just sat around for a while, posting. I played some fucking Minecraft for a bit. Listened to a couple EPs. I learned that I'm getting a new roommate tomorrow, he'll be getting here when I'm out of the room. He came by to say hello while I was in the shower, so I missed him today, too. Sounds like a pretty nice guy. I ate lunch alone, of course, because it was at odd hours. Then when I came back I went through the training to be a text-banker for the Bernie campaign. Passed the quiz, got to texting, and it was good. The system we use kinda sucks, but I had success with it. There were so many volunteers, it was buckling under our weight.

And then it became time to log off. The debate came on, and I decided that I would tune in. Why not? Just see what was going on. And it sickened me. Made me dejected. Mostly, the pre-debate coverage. Then, the debate itself. It was funny at points, but not when I realized that what was so obviously wrong to me was something someone else could support with their whole heart. I've been all over the political spectrum at different points of my miserable fucking existence, but I've never been a moderate. I can't understand centrism. It's just not in my nature. Being defeatist is the least helpful, least productive stance one can take, and that's what being a moderate is. If you can stand on a debate stage with millions of people watching and say that you have a better idea than giving everyone universal healthcare, with a rat-faced smile plastered across your gross skull, then you have no shred of humanity in you. Honestly. Universal healthcare is a benchmark for a developed nation that we do not meet. There's nothing better than that besides not being born in the first place.

So I tuned out and went down to get dinner, walking through the cold. It's officially Late Night hours, so the pickings are slim. I had some fried chicken, pieces of Nan bread, and a slice of pepperoni pizza. Not the healthiest, but I had a very light lunch. I saw some acquaintances from the Clarinet section. I didn't say hello, because they were eating with each other, and not with me. They could see me, and I could see them, and they didn't say hello, so I didn't say hello. They didn't invite me. I didn't invite them. I wasn't welcome. I'm not the best of friends with them. It's the off-season. I'm pretty sure most of the section doesn't actually like me. This realization hits me mid-bite. I have my friends, I have my niche, but I don't regularly hang out with more than the four people from the section that I actually managed to make good friends with. I'm weird and strange and I have a bad hairdo. Why would I ever consider being a field staff member? I can't apply to that. I don't deserve that station. That's for people who can be likeable. I feel lost. I felt lost, then. I finished my food and left. And here I am, in a dark room, listening to the motherfucking Smiths, and I realize I've probably gone full doomer.

On My Mind: Not much. I feel somewhat empty of thoughts right now. I feel rather empty when it comes to a few things. I don't know what I should be doing right now. If I went straight to sleep, it'd be a waste. If I stayed up for a lot longer, I'd feel pretty terrible when I wake up in the morning. I have stuff to do tomorrow. Tabletop club, and then I'm hanging out with friends. And I have stuff to do on Sunday too. A music review committee meeting is happening, and I have to catch up on some homework, and watch some lectures, and maybe also keep my social life struggling forward on its tiny twig legs.


Produced: Nothing and I feel kinda like shit because of it so don't bother me too much.

Other Thoughts: Whenever this blog devolves into misery like this, I feel really guilty about thanking people for reading. I feel like it sounds like I'm congratulating you for slogging through me being an emo piece of shit for 1,500 words. But seriously, thanks for reading. The blog crossed over 3,000 views recently, which might not sound like much but given how unattractive the website looks on a basic level that feels like an accomplishment for me.