Andare, Partire, Tornare ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Feel free to skip this angst Last day at work this week. Spending it with quilts, again - this time cradle quilts and the occasional coverlet (woven, not quilted). Fighting a sense of disconnection - I don't know where it's coming from, but I've been doing some stupid things the past few days, and wondering why I feel like I can't breathe. It's embarassing to pant because you've walked from the car to the front door. I know I'm not *that* out of shape. *angst ahead. Avoid if you wish* Tomorrow will be spent studying and trying to mentally prep myself, and that night, I think I've been invited to go to Nation, a DC club. Can't stay out too late, because I'm driving to State College on Friday, then the test is Saturday. I'll probably drive home on Sunday. Feeling smothered and claustrophobic. Is this what a real panic attack feels like? God, I'm such a weak person. I can't believe I'm letting this get to me, but the thought of failing again makes me feel like throwing up. Sorry, this is a horrible entry. Who would have thought that I'd rather face lions in the Colosseum than thirty slides of "Major art historical works?" 3:07 p.m. - 2002-03-13 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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