My busy, busy life.
Tuesday, 10/18/05 - 9:52 pm.

I'm a robot. I do everything I have to do, just because I have to. I don't stop all day, and I'm having the longest days of my life, but I also get nothing done. I come home at night and realize it's been a waste of time, and all the important things I had to do were not done.

I'm so exhausted and overwhelmed with this 19-hour schedule that I feel like crying and cutting.

The crazy project lady wanted us to go on thursday to interview kids in the morning, to the shelter, and then interview kids in the afternoon at some public school. I don't even have the strenght nor the vocabulary to express how angry I was. Luckily, it's not going to happen. This thursday we're going only to the stupid public school.

Today I met a jesuit eminence, with a social psychology PhD, who also was great friends with the psychologist I admire the most. In fact, he gave a mini conference today about him. He's cool, I wish I could talk to him, but you know how us mortals have our boundaries. No, really, he's very cool, very "close" and "human" if you will. It's just that he's the kind of high-quality intellectual that you're reluctant of even opening your mouth, fearing you're going to say something retarded.

I'm angry and exhausted. Which means I'm depressed. And tomorrow I'm seeing my 14-year-old patient, and I'm applying the WISC. Kill me now.

I failed a practical quiz in Survey this afternoon. Tomorrow I have an exposition and I haven't read anything for it. Irene, Priscilla and Michelle have taken the responsability for all the papers and researches lately. I feel guilty for not helping, but Priscilla says I've "taught them well" when it comes to taking the responsability and the leadership. I feel relieved (I feel like a ninja turtle).

I don't spend much time with Joseph lately, either, but he often says I'm his biggest pride, and that everything will be fine.

I need a release for all this stress. I'll go to bed early, but first I'll read a few psychodynamics essays. People write the dumbest things, and while I feel ashamed of thinking they may become psychologist, I get a lot of laughs.

You know, I saw Carmen today. She walked me by and I whistled at her because it seemed she hadn't seen me. It was just that stupid reflex, the compromise of greeting people that were once part of your life. Usually, I would've fought that reflex successfully, but maybe it was this deplorable robot-state I've been living in for a while that made my freudian Ego weaken. She turned around like she didn't want to, and I noticed she was crying. For a while I had a flashback to 8th grade, when I didn't matter, and everything overshadowed me. But I quickly recovered and said you are not my problem anymore, and went on with my busy, busy life.

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