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I am having a Bad Day. Actually, I've been having Bad Days for the past few days now, which makes me think that this is something hormonal or chemical. Either way, I've treated the Bad Days with chocolate, wine, rock 'n roll, and books, but they're still here. The Boyfriend and I are going to Citizens for Humane Action tonight to look at homeless cats, so I'm hoping this will cheer me up a bit. Let me clarify that. We're not just going to look at cats, but to find one that agrees with us and then take him/her home with much fanfare and kitty toy buying. I think the stress is getting to me. I can imagine my doctor saying this, but I never feel stressed when I actually am. Only the physical symptoms clue me into my level of aggravation; my mental state usually seems clear and fine (although sometimes moody, as you can see). This time the physical symptoms include: tiredness, no appetite, and tightness in my chest (I hesitate to call it pain, as that sounds much scarier). I can't wait until I know what I'm doing next year. It's the not knowing that's wearing me down. Not knowing if I'll be able to do a PhD anywhere, or where it will be if I get lucky. Not knowing if The Boyfriend will stick around if I stay where I am, move with me, or decide to move back in with his parents. It's exactly in times like this that I need a cat.