The end of a school year. I've moved out of the student residence I lived in all year and now I'm in another student residence for one week. A depressingly run-down undegraduate dorm. There's no cooking equipment in the kitchen and the cafeteria doesn't serve lunch or dinner. I put some things in the refrigerator and they were thrown out. So, I've been surviving on bagels with peanut butter and instant soup. All the friends I made here in London were on one year Masters degree programs. I will most likely never see them again. So...I've lost some things.

This story registers at 800x more misery than the above paragraph which is more of a temporary, mild discomfort and low-level melancholy. God I love good writing. While in rehab she says she wished she were plankton. When I was in high school I used to wish I was my dog, hanging out in the backyard, sleeping in the sun, no obligations, no school, no homework. That feeling has passed because, well, for one thing my dog died a couple of years ago.

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