My antibiotic is nearly gone. I have perhaps 3 more meals (I have to take it with food) until the bottle is empty. I will miss my antibiotic given all of the other things I've said goodbye to recently--goodbye first semester of grad school, goodbye amusing diversion of flirtation with professor, so long to another relationship (2004 seemed to be my year to shed people)that wasn't working...

Am significantly less skeeved out by the thought of the mouse. Have reclaimed apartment emotionally as well as physically. I have little comforting rituals I haven't yet dispensed with, like leaving the lights and tv on in the living room when I'm home, but in the bedroom, to give the impression of a presence, to keep the noise going. I still keep a towel bunched under the seal of my door to prevent anything small from crawling in. You may feel that I am overreacting, but I don't recover easily from things like this. I don't recover easily from anything.

To go back briefly to something I said in the first paragraph. I had a couple of clarifying moments this week. One came on Tuesday night--the night of the flat finale of 20th Cent. Wrld. Lit. As I sat there, not having read the last book, I saw that even my harmless crush on my professor was another way of stacking the deck in favour of futility. I saw that his demeanor is one of equal-opportunity bantering...and that while he may have enjoyed some of my comments, there was nothing intentional about his behavior toward me--he is exactly the same with everyone. And I sat there laughing to myself that even for a mindless diversion, that it had been rather piss poor, built on out of context moments. I am the queen of invention, I swear. Realizing this did not break my heart, thank God. It was the perfect noncommittal fantasy, one in which there is no stake in any outcome. Not actually caring is the safest place to be.

At least the paper is coming along. If not to him, I did give my heart to the instructor's class (the last session excepted); I'm hoping to get an A for my trouble. Have recently had nightmares about getting a C, because I was offbase, not only in thinking there had been intentional flirting on his part, but about the idea that I was doing well. This would actually hurt me much more.

The other moment was about my virtually ruined friendship with G. I thought to myself (and I do not want to know if others agree with this; confirmations that I am right would not be helpful) that perhpas this my chance to be happy at last. For nearly 6 years I have been in anguish over my feelings for him, worried about him dating someone else, wondering if the tide would ever turn in my favour, not sure why this kind of thing always happens to me. For as much as I have felt that there was a greater purpose in my knowing him, in us being in each other's lives, I have occasionally wished to go back to the time before that fateful dinner party in 1999--the one in which I really talked to him for the first time, and my heart opened its doors. I had known him, loosely, through Victoria from the year before. But we had never spoken to speak of, and he wasn't even a blip on my radar, save for being V's semi weird, intellectual friend (that's what I thought then)... if our friendship is indeed over now (as I suspect it is), then this could be that opportunity.

Well, have to get back to final essay. I really do want an A.