quiescence

I have little to really comment on today, as I spend pretty much the whole of it in my room and reading. Ah to be back to the grad school norm of cloistered isolation...

I try not to bitch too much in my journal, mainly because I am of the opinion that there is always something positive to be found in any experience, but I really hate carpel tunnel. The nauseating cold, painful tension, and intellectual frustration at being unable to do little things like take notes is a pretty unpleasant situation for a historian. At times it becomes very hard for me to be content with my body when it confronts me with lifelong petty failings at every turn.

My attempts at eloquence all fail to convey the profound sense of blah and dissatisfaction I feel right now.