Walking in the Rain and the Snow

On my way back to the medical school today, I find myself contemplating from under my umbrella yet another campus statue. All the campus statues fall into one of two categories: Things That Look Fallen Over or Things That Look Like Simple Geometric Shapes. The one by the medical school falls into the Fallen Over category. I believe the big white elephant-like statue by the Triangle building is its mate. This seems to be another theme of the campus statues, that they must come in pairs.

Looking at the very expensive yet stupid-looking piece of art, I am reminded of a meeting I had recently where I was told that the head of the campus art directive or whatever hated the idea for a Doc statue, said it would be "ugly" and wouldn't fit in with his carefully sculpted master vision for this campus's art. He then offered to dedicate the new piece of art that will be placed next year to Doc instead. I would have been hurt by this had this not been the same committee that apparently commissioned not one, but two statues of self-fellating men for placement on campus. One is on Northside near the volleyball courts, and the other is in the lobby of Eldred Theatre.

I am also reminded, by the weather, that my junior year of high school I became minorly ill for no reason for an extended period of time. Everything I put in my mouth made me nauseated, and visits to the doctor resulted in a theory of pregnancy (false!) or anxiety (maybe?) or an infection of some sort. For about a month I was on 150 calories a day, the calories contained in the breakfast bar I ate dutifully because my antibiotics were supposed to be taken with food. I lost 15 pounds, and woke up one morning with a healthy appetite and no nausea.

It occurs to me that this happened over the same late January/February/early March stretch that is always so hard for me. Lately eating has been difficult for me, as once again everything I eat my stomach seems to take issue with having to deal with. I have a very emo stomach. I am sure that if a psychiatrist asked me a few questions, s/he'd deduce that I suffer from Chronically Seasonal Affective Restless Leg Syndrome Disorder or whatever. I'm not so unobservant not to note that my depression always seems to occur around the same times of year--a few days in autumn, and a few weeks in early spring. But I'm not bothered by it, it doesn't keep me from doing things. I'm sitting back here in the dark room with my cells, happily taking pictures every twenty seconds, keeping my mental running commentary. In a couple weeks I'll be better, and it will be spring.