I hate weekends. I know how weird that is, and believe me, it only serves to make me feel like that much more of a weirdo. But I can’t help it.

    I’m going positively stir-crazy. This happens to some degree every weekend, but for some reason this one has been worse. My mood has been pretty sour today, despite my best efforts to maintain a smile on my face (as you may have noticed by the tone of the last blog – sorry about that, I was trying to be perky and pleasant, honest, but I have a feeling it came out like a cynical load of tripe.) There just isn’t anyone to talk to on weekends, no where to go. My friend Stephen came over yesterday for a while to keep me company, but I felt so miserable that I couldn’t really do much. I appreciated him coming, but I felt completely unentertaining and I’m sure I bored him to no end. I appreciated it all the same, but my body got in the way. It’s not anyone’s fault that I start to feel isolated on weekends, really, it’s just my body. After weekdays full of doctors I crash by the weekend and feel downright miserable. Perhaps that’s why this weekend was so bad.

    I’m dying for something different. It was great when my friend came for a visit from Texas, but even though that was only about two weeks ago, it feels like an eternity. It’s amazing how slow Saturdays can go when you hate them, and how lethargic Sundays are when you’re stuck in bed.

    I need something to do, something to keep me occupied, something to distract me from the fact that this really hurts. I’m dying to do something creative, but my mind’s not working well enough to write anything, I don’t think any of my paints are still any good, and besides, if I made a mess I’d have to clean it up. And I can’t do that. I tried playing games with people yesterday and today but it was just annoying, and make it all the more obvious how slow I’ve become.

    Wow my head hurts. Last night I started making a list of movies I’ve been watching, thinking that maybe I could make a site with movie suggestions and reviews for other sick people. Kind of a new twist on your typical movie reviews. But I started listing them, I got somewhere past 100 (no exaggeration), and realized that if I can’t write anything I’m the least bit proud of, how am I going to write coherent movie reviews? And besides, I’d never get past designing the darn thing, so there’s no point.

    I need to come up with something to do on the weekends, cause this is just stupid. At least tomorrow’s Monday. Thank heaven for that.