Frosted Mini-Wheat Thoughts and Theories

I have no idea why as my one and only breakfast cereal I purchased Frosted Mini-Wheats. I eat them nearly every morning, and nearly every morning I feel like throwing up. Yet I will eat them until they are gone. I know this. Life goes on.

I think however, they sort of present a metaphor for my present state. I realized Monday that the past three weeks I have been strangely depressed. Probably more depressed than I have at any other point in college so far. I think it's been a combination of things, including a big fight with my parents and me not getting into a show this semester.

Fortunately, though, I think I'm pulling through pretty well now. I've done a lot of self-re-evaluation the past two days, and I actually feel a lot happier. I felt out of balance and without purpose. I sat down and figured out what direction I want to go in, which includes a renewed dedidication to acting and getting a job that I really want. So far so good. I have reconciled with my family. I've put a lot of thought into my characterization scene, and I think I have a really good shot at this job I applied for at a fancy-schmancy Chocolate Lounge in Evanston. And I have been listening to a lot of White Stripes.

Yeah, I know this post is pretty lame. Think of it as an open letter, to you. Personally, I mean it. Nobody else can read this. Here's to you, reader.

With love,
--Barry