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Theme of the day: stress, distress, depression.

I don't know. Finished writing the effin' Propp essay and now I'm just all blagh. Sun is shining and I went out for a little walk - and oo, isn't the air fresh now after all that rain - but didn't dare to take a long one (which I would've felt like) since my eating is still pretty much fucked up and I'm trying concentrate on getting it in order first.

Also, apart from Krista, it feels like I haven't seen anyone in days. Which isn't a lie really. I haven't really talked to anyone this week. Hm. Except Samu, who popped in for a few minutes last night. We watched The Simpsons, and then he was gone, so I don't know if I can count that.
Though I do I have to count that, or I'll start sounding like grandpa :)

Distress bonus: It feels like everyone's staring at me wherever I go. Woo. That's a normal feeling for me, but usually I just don't care.

The summer course materials lie there on my bed, but I can't be bothered to pick them up and read. I wish I'd started with the Hollywood articles and saved the South-African Literature books last. But no, I did it the other way round. And now that I finished J.M. Coetzee's Discrage the day before yesterday, all I have left is the bunch of articles. Most depressing.

So was the Coetzee book, though. It's got to be one of the strangest books I've read in a long while. I'm not sure if I liked it, but I did get somehow strangely hooked on it. I don't know if it was depressing or distressing, but it did raise an awful lot of thoughts. And what the hell happened in the end? Can someone explain? Please? Now I feel reading more Coetzee books, if only to check whether or not they are as captivating as this one. But I know I'll probably never get around to actually reading them. Same happened with Iris Murdoch. I still haven't touched any of her other books, no matter how much I loved the Bell I read for fiction 3.

I wish I had an Agatha Christie novel right now, but I've read all I've borrowed from the library (which naturally is closed today). Poo.
What do people do in their free time if they're not reading Christie or out walking? Enlighten me.