Tuesday Pleasantries

Sometimes, very rarely, I give a brief thought to the possibility that I might be bipolar, not just depressed. There are times when the fog lifts and I'm suddenly capable of great feats of concentration, productivity, and cheerfulness for a while. I fly through my work, get creative ideas, and have the urge to stay up very late accomplishing the things I generally let lie around. Occasionally, as part of this, I get jittery and have trouble sleeping; otherwise I wouldn't even consider the possibility of these times being manic. The more I think about it, though, I suspect that when I feel like this, I'm not actually experiencing unreasonable peaks and hollows; I'm simply rising to the baseline level of awareness and comfort where most people spend their lives. It happens seldom enough that it feels damn good when it does. Today is one of those times, amplified by the fact that I felt bloody awful this morning; along with the ubiquitous tiredness and stomach problems, I seem to be breaking out in hives again, like I did last April. No big worry. I'm either mildly allergic to something or it's just stress. The former I can ask about when I go to the doctor, and the latter, I can deal with, because it's all in my head. Lately I've been realizing the benefits of sitting down and taking a few relaxing breaths. It works wonders for my stomach problems, too. A quiet command for my vitals to calm down and behave themselves has prevented several episodes where I would have gotten sick otherwise. I'm sure improving my diet (when I get around to it) will help too. Until I'm seeing a counselor and on antidepressants, I'm going to see how much I can do to make things easier for myself.

Despite the health talk, this really is going to be a happy post. Part of the change in emotional altitude I'm experiencing today is a feeling of being comfortable and well situated. Regrets and negative things from the past aren't bothering me--I'm even seeing bad experiences with mixed appreciation and understanding of what they taught me, I'm happy with and thankful for what I have right now, and I have a good idea of the path to where I want to go in the future. The recent religious debates among my friends have helped me find an understanding of and satisfaction with my paradigm that I haven't had for a long time. Food tastes good and sleep makes me feel better rested in the morning. I can hold a conversation with an acquaintance or coworker without stumbling over my words or closing up. I'm okay with it being a cold, rainy day in January. Everything is just going well, and the things that aren't...well, they're staying in perspective and not threatening to eat the entire world and plunge existence into the Darkness Beyond the Stars.

Last night's class probably contributed to the feeling of well being. I've decided to drop all pretense of becoming a Serious Literary Theoriseur and admit that what I really want to study is fantasy, sci-fi, and smut. I admitted it in class last night (okay, I did fudge it a bit by throwing in some rhetoric about allegory and myth)--and the professor and other students thought it was a great thing to study! I learned last night why most people think of the eighteenth century as such a dry and boring literary period, stuck between the Renaissance and Romantic eras as it is: it's because most survey courses on the Restoration concentrate on the men. Turns out that the women were where all the action is. This class is going to center mostly on the E!-worthy theatre of big pimpin' Charles II's era; the glamorous life of the actresses; Aphra Behn, who was a spy and (if I skimmed this right) wrote love letters to women; and the Smut that The Victorians Tried to Kill and Couldn't; interspersed with a wee little break for a bit of serious proto-feminism. I started the class exhausted; ended it exhilarated, two and a half hours later. That's what I call an evening well spent. Can't wait to go back. Don't even really mind that I have to spend my birthday in class.

I wasn't expecting this, but both of my classes this term are sources for prime gaming/fiction research. The theatre portion of the Restoration class is going to give me all kinds of ideas for my bawdyhouse actress, Kiana.

Let's see, what else is good...well, one of our summer pilgrimages is now in the serious planning stage; we bought our badges for the Origins gaming convention in Columbus yesterday. I haven't had all that much to look forward to these past few summers, but Origins and Otakon are definitely filling that role this year. Now I'm obsessively checking the website for signs that events are being announced, and just slightly beginning to wonder about where we're going to stay. I'd love to be able to stay at one of the hotels within walking distance of the convention center, and on my current wave of semi-manic optimism, I'm saying, "Yeah, hell with the price! We can afford it, whatever it is!"

The thing that's slightly sobering (in a very happy way) is that this might somewhat be true. Since my last pay raise, I've had the pleasant experience of being able to pay bills whenever I feel like it, knowing that I'll have enough money to cover them without having to do some clever maths first. I have to remember that there is a wedding happening in a year and a half. Even though I'm becoming more and more okay with it being a low-budget affair, Adam and I have both agreed that the honeymoon location is not negotiable. And it's quite the expensive destination.