Sleeping on the floor

I'm sleeping on the floor this week and I am having lots of dreams about things. I can't remember them though. Even what kind of feelings or people they involve. I want to remember them and can't. I find they are easier to remember when I can lie still and half asleep in my bed. But the floor is uncomfortable and doesn't allow for that.

I just realized what I'm feeling today. It's the yuciness that comes along with being depressed. That despite how good things are (new ipod, good music, laughter, formal dinner, films, blah blah blah) it's temporary. That this little bit of my life will disappear and leave me behind. Alone and affected and unable to express what it is that's different or what I want. Or maybe that's all silly pessimistic and I should just get on with things, not listen to British Sea Power despite how stunning and brilliant the new album is and know that Vancouver is good and I can make it work around me and what I am now.

Some people say that you never really change, but I don't think that's true. I think you can. But the changes aren't obvious to the outside, they are deep and basic and aren't about HOW you are, but WHO you are.

That's enough of that stuff for now. Classclown and Adonis are in front of me on the computers. I'm hungry but don't want a sandwich. I'll eat something small before my lecture later and then again when I get home.