LAND OF THE LIVING DEAD?

Mother of God, I am still alive.
I have no idea how I've managed to remain alive and breathing, but somehow, by some illegitimate notion of reality, I sit here, typing and functioning to as normal a degree as can be humanly expected.
The last few weeks are finally behind me, and I could not be happier. I simply cannot express how genuinely peaceful I feel knowing that Indulgences is behind me. It's done. Finished. Over. DEAD.
Classes will continue to supply a perpetual workload, so I have no worries as to how my time will be spent. However, it will be nice to have one or two evenings at my disposal before Brigadoon wraps me in its Scottish talons and squeezes whatever life remains out of me. And then, of course, come Conservatory and Directing show work. As excited as I am to do one, I am only slightly excited to do the other. Can you guess? I'll give you a hint- I'm lying. No, not really: Love Talker seems like it's going to be a genuinely interesting experience, whereas After might prove to be nothing more productive than a chance to have some fun with Manring. I would just like to get them finished. Done with. Gone.
I would like to justify my life outlook based on one sole factor, but I can't seem to garner one that would clarify all my problems in one foul swoop. Well, I've not been able to hold down a single meal this week- I feel as though my system is simply bent on the blatant and outright rejection of food, no matter what the sort. That certainly hasn't been a major factor of facilitation in my well being. Yet, we digress.
I'm having difficulty allowing myself to categorize just how I'm feeling about Michael. Yes, he's self-centered. I know. I'm dealing with it. Yes, he's absorbed. I know- I'm trying to pretend it doesn't affect me, but it does. I find myself hurting so often when I'm around him, merely for the fact that he doesn't know how to multi-task: he can't grasp the concept of splitting his focus and allowing for more than one factor to dominate his mind-frame. It kills me. It does. But it's not something I can change. Not to mention the fact that I'd crush him if he knew. I feel like I keep so much of myself from him, if only for the fact that he seems fragile enough to not be able to take a lot of what I have to say. I've seen him recoil from my sharpness. I can only imagine what he'd feel under my scrutiny.
Ugh. Enough of this loathed talking. I have a monologue to learn for tomorrow morning, and I'll be damned if I don't manage to have it perfectly memorized.
Damned, I tell you.