stuck here, in the middle of nowhere, with a headache and a heavy heart.

paige mentioned that I wasn't terribly detail-oriented about my sources of melancholy, so here's a breakdown, lifted from an email I sent her:

moving is over with... for now. my dad's started looking for a house in the same area, and we're all emphasizing the transiency of this move (if I could find the camera, I'd send a picture of my closet). I don't like the area, firstly because it's closer to two hours than to an hour and a half for me to get home, and also because all the people are afraid of me, because I am a late-teens to mid-twenties brown guy. I was amused the first time, but now I'm annoyed; being grouped in with a bunch of middle-class suburban faux-gangster kids simply because of my skin tone and age group is somewhat aggravating.
with no internet or cable, I've been doing more reading, mostly Discworld books (comic fantasy) borrowed from jake (asshat friend).
I hate my room. It's pink, and there's a cacophony of jungle animals on a stupid trim piece that runs around the entire room. My bed is right on the floor, there's no room for my dresser with mirror, so I only have the wardrobe in there, large spiders seem to be attracted to it, and I can't put things up on the wall because there's no masking tape and I don't want to deal with accidentally removed paint.
I haven't worked for almost a year, unless you count temp jobs like polling and calendars. I'm not looking forward to doing parking at the PNE - I didn't put anything specific down because I hoped they'd have picked me for something ACF-ish, but I get to tell people where to park, instead.
The welcome back barbeque will be nothing compared to radiohead - also, if you're living in the office, I can steal you the electric wok, which is everything it sounds like (plug in, and stir fry.)

[paige-specific bit; if you want to know, ask her]

my sister and her husband are heading for splitsville - I think it's a trial separation now, and possibly a divorce later. this means she'll be moving back in, and that we'll be back to five people in a three-bedroom house. I found that out saturday morning; I don't know how long she'll be back, and walking on eggshells + current instabilities don't bode well.
chemistry is boring and stupid. fuck you, electrons!