I did, however, have an awesome day yesterday, which, coming on the heels of about a week of remarkably good days, is doing wonders for my mood.
Art hist and music were rather dull, but in American hist I had a presentation, and it went really well. The topic was music during the Vietnam war (anti and pro), and I'd put together a pretty spiffy (if I do say so myself) PowerPoint. To go with said PowerPoint, I'd taken the eight songs I was specifically discussing and snipped them down to just the specific stanza(s) I wanted, which meant I wouldn't have to worry about having to scan through the songs for the exact part. I also had packets with the complete lyrics for each song, which people seemed to actually be looking at. And I got compliments afterward, not just from the prof but from a number of my classmates. I was really, really pleased.
Then I went down to Dupont Circle and met N (formerly of Starbucks), who was passing through DC on her way from Bum-Fuck, Ohio to Miami. We camped out in Teaism and played UpWords, then hung out in Starbucks to talk some more, then wandered around Beadazzled until I had to head out. It was really, really great to see her. Having a social life, even for just a weekend (I got to hang with triannamaxwell on Friday), is really great.
Also, the replacement for the corset I bought at Dragon*Con last year arrived. I think I need to bug Sarah G. to help me make sure it fits, since I think she's the only person I know in the state that knows how to lace it properly. But, it's here, and that makes me gleeful.
My mood has been better since the beginning of last week, much closer to what it should be. I'm still worried that it's a fluke, or that it will go away once my metabolism has caught up with the current meds configuration, but it makes me optimistic that I actually will be ready to go back to school next fall.
Speaking of, I need to start making those phone calls to the various programs. Eep.
*Actually, my brain had already begun the slow crawl toward consciousness, with the thought of Dude, is it cold in here? And yes, my half-awake mind says "dude". I imagine it as a tiny, pot-smoking surfer-boy, which doesn't make any sense. Don't ask, I don't even know.