Sick and stressed - it must be September

Ah, the back-to-college cold. Two thousand students congregate from across north-west London, a large proportion of them in my classroom, and I'm surprised when I get ill. It's particularly irritating when it hits the day before the weekend. I wasn't sick enough to be off work yesterday, and now Saturday is ruined. Blah. It's not even a bad cold. It's just annoying. Still, there's a Stoppard play to be seen tonight. Did I mention that he's my hero?

Work is stressful. Stress is synonymous with the Autumn term. This has been doing my head in just a little bit. It gets a bit dull, having one single thought that you are incapable of getting out of your brain for twenty-four hours, whether you're awake, asleep, working or resting. This is one of the more interesting ways in which my brain reminds me that it's still bipolar, just when I was getting used to a greatly reduced range of symptoms. Talking of the joys of bipolar disorder, I have thoughts on the subject after watching the Stephen Fry documentary (the second part of which I didn't get to see - must find a copy somewhere). I feel a Phrenetic article coming on... Now I just need to wait until May, when I'll have time to write it. Blah.

"Sometimes I think you live outside your body."
- The Girl, in response to one of my many where am I? who am I? moments yesterday