Pseudowhimsical Ranting

There's really no conventional reason to post right now. Today ranks in the Top 5 of Fabala's Most Boring Days. I took a brief respite from my slumber to sleep. Yes, that's right; I spent the day lost in a not-so-peaceful world devoid of anything but the dark, and the pain. The sun rose without me, and I daresay that had it not been for an overwhelming urge to talk to Brian, it would set in quite the same manner. There is nothing of note occurring, nothing of note that has occurred, and I would be correct in saying that nothing of note will occur anytime before I return to my cocoon.
I did spent the most fleeting moment considering whether or not I should begin the arduous task of "homework-over-break" and I have to say, the results were a unanimous no...but not before I trekked out to my car to retrieve my English book. Lucky it weighs less than a pound or I might have become angry.
There is nothing to do. There, I said it - again. My options lay in my DVD player, hooking up my PS2 for no reason, or reading. And quite honestly, my head hurts too much for any of those. I've been in this mood the past couple of days where any trivial thing can reduce me to tears or cause me to flare up rather violently. I don't know why; all I know is that I'm grateful to Brian for being so understanding and supportive through the whole thing. I've also been rather talkative and philosophical, more than I usually am for any extended period of time. Of this he's also been wonderfully understanding. Thank God for him.
I have to write a paper this week, a paper concerning the true nature of "monsters" as set forth in two stories we discussed in class. I've determined that the focus for my paper is that the victim of a story more often than not turns out to be just as much of a monster as the villain. To back up my thesis I am using "The Fall River Axe Murders" and "A Good Man Is Hard To Find," both of which possess victims (not even protagonists!) who are so loathsome to even read about that one is sighing in relief at their respective demise, even as s/he is condemning their killer. But no matter. Throw in a few good quotes and liven it up with my natural flair for making the ridiculous viable, and I trust it will be yet another A to chalk up. But who's counting? I'm merely waiting until I can transfer to a good 4-year school and get going somewhere. With God's blessing, Brian will be right there with me.
Enough ranting. My head is starting to hurt even more at all of these thoughts I've here recorded. And I know that my writing style is sounding more stilted and formal - imagine if I were speaking right now! So the consensus is, Fabala has finally lost it. Perhaps I have...