Hello Diary,

Tonight should find me in a good mood. I passed the histology exam today after another evening's worth of reading up. This means I'll be up for summer in pretty precisely one week and one final exam. Nothing bad has happened to me, and my cat's going to have kittens.

But, you guessed it. This isn't one of my better nights. I don't feel downright bad or upset, but more like I'm on hold. I can't think of anything I'm up to doing for the moment, and I can't make peace with the idea of going to bed. It's one of those nights when you want something significant to happen and turn you around before you call it a day. But nothing really shows up, so you end up pacing back and forth, checking your mail too many times, wishing someone would interrupt your life. Actually, I even checked my hotmail, hoping anyone I knew once but haven't heard from for years would have dropped me a message.

You guessed it again. There were only countless mails on dental plans, mortgages, college girls doing anal sex, and easy ways to improve the size of your penis. I think I've had my hotmail account for way too long. I wonder who actually sit around and design those messages, anyway. Someone, somewhere, has to be spending time coming up with ideas of how to make trash e-mails look real to get eventual readers' attentions. The very thought of it is unreal.

So. It turns out to be one of those thousand-dollar* nights. No one I know seems to be at home, online, awake, or anywhere in the world. Normally I guess I would start firing off e-mails to everyone I haven't written to for way too long**, but I feel too empty. I can't write anything. I don't really feel lonely here, but for once, I wish I had someone around to talk to.
I wish Kitty Pryde would air-walk over Stockholm on her way back from an adventure, temporarily lose control of her powers and crash down in my sofa.
I wish someone would tap on my window and suggest we raise a tent in the garden and lie there and tell stories all night.

Tomorrow, I will go and donate blood, in order to do good and get at least a smile.

**Your online equivalent to a drunken, 3:30a.m. I-still-love-you-and-think-we-could-repair-the-damage phonecall, without a doubt.