Perhaps, malaise. That might be the best way to put it. A daze at work - maybe things are blending together after a year? No desire to follow up on the whole "kick ass on the GMAT thing" - what journey is left? Maybe the fact that the sunset is happening before 7 is just getting to me. But, anyway, I've been oddly odd in the last ten days or so, since my return from Chicago.

Example 1: The post-GMAT collape
I spent the post-test Friday tired-but-glowing, and was pretty much that way the rest of the (poorly-recollected, in the previous entry) weekend. I kind of figured that, last week, I'd not get much done to follow up on that success, and I'd be kind of okay with that; it'd been a grind for the previous month, and I had earned some time off. But I pretty much couldn't stay awake at all last week. Monday, I watched a movie with a friend, because I had to return it to another friend. Tuesday, I can't recall. Wednesday was dollar pints night. Thursday, I traded voicemails with my older brother, then fell asleep on my couch. Friday will be covered below.

Saturday, I spent largely on the couch - nothing. Sunday, largely on the couch - a little bit of an application, and it took half a bottle of wine to get me started. Hey, let's get drunk and apply to grad school! (Seriously, sadly.) Monday, largely on the couch - nothing. Now - well, this, instead of that.

Actually, that's the only example I have. Yesterday was pretty depressing when, as I returned (quite sweatily, I should add) from a pretty good apartment complex treadmill workout, around 7, it was dark. That's not supposed to happen here, yet. Or, anyway, it seems like it shouldn't happen. (A bit of decade-old research on the region indicates that my hypothesis that maybe the pace at which the sunset gets earlier actually does quicken as you get closer to winter is clearly wrong, but it sure seems that way.) But it has, and I need every light on in the apartment as I write at 8:30.

So I guess that's another example.

But, anyway, I was just lethargic, for the last week. Maybe it's some sort of pre-winter depression. Maybe I should hibernate. Hibernation is so cool.

- - - - - - - -

So let's talk about the weekend, or actually, just Saturday. On Wednesday, I decided that, on Saturday, I would do a two-hour run. Why? I'm not quite sure. It just seemed like a cool idea. Well, I prepared a two-hour iPod mix (though I should've focused more on the classics and less on recent acquisitions) to be played on random, and I just went, and went, and went, though not for two hours. My goal was 13 miles in two hours, about a 9:15 pace. At about Mile 7, I decided I'd stop after 10 miles, instead. And the net was 94 minutes, 52 seconds, for just over ten miles. It was kind of cool, and pretty exhausting and, because I hadn't brought my wallet along, I had to pay in quarters when I bought a post-run Powerade at the nearest gas station. "You look like you've been out and about today," the clerk exclaimed. "The important thing is that I'm not dead," I replied, presumably (accidentally) dripping sweat on her hands, and her countertop, and her countertop lighters. I then enjoyed the sweet, sweet taste of Grape-flavored sports beverage.

I believe, post-shower, I spent the rest of the day on the couch. I ate lots of cookies, and perhaps some popcorn, and, at about 11, made the semi-conscious decision to blow off a friend in town for the weekend-plus. I feel bad about it, but also okay about it. (But the fact that I feel okay about it may be indicative of a malaise, perhaps?)

You see, we had worked together my first summer up here.

(It's amazing, but it's now "my first summer," as I've lived through "my second summer." I'm not sure when I'll start referring to "this past summer" as "last summer" - I'm the type that won't call Summer '07 "last summer" until about February, I don't think. That way, "this summer" is already near-imminent, at least in some parts of the country. Here, in February, it's four full months away, at least. Sigh.)

There were perhaps four instances of hanging out between last summer and when she left town, I believe in March. Since then, I'd imagine there's been one phone conversation - April, likely - another message, perhaps, and sparing ecommunication. Which is to say, not much. We're mutually low-priority, it seems.

So she called - the plan had roughly been for her to call Saturday, though she was hanging out with the smaller, higher-priority group earlier. I would be among the "join us at the bar - we'll catch up then!" portion of the evening. I was pretty interested in Illinois-Michigan, and didn't pick up - I was probably entranced by a Juice overthrow. I called back and got voicemail, fired of a "what's doin'?" text message, and got nothing back. So I watched American Beauty.

No contact Sunday, traded texts yesterday, and a decision by her to get to bed to ensure wake-up in time for her 6 a.m. flight rather than to meet at the redneck bar tonight.

Do I feel bad about missing the hangout time? I don't know - the game was pretty entertaining, and American Beauty was pretty good and, realistically, would a semi-drunken evening of catch-up with people I don't see anymore and people I may not see again have been better than what I eventually wound up doing? Probably, but not that much better, and I would've had to pay for beer.

So that was Saturday.

- - - - - -

Let's talk, only briefly, about Friday. Friday was Cats-EMU, and it was miserable. Thankfully, I got to watch it at a friend's house.

You see, the first weekend of the season, I had previously-scheduled plans to hang out with this friend. This friend likes soccer a lot. I think we watched an MLS game, because he likes soccer that much. But mostly we drank and made conversation, because those are my two greatest skills. That day, both of us received communication from our cable company, telling us that ESPNU would be added to the Sports Tier. I don't have the Sports Tier. He does, due to the soccer channels. I said, "Does this mean you'll be getting ESPNU?" He said, "Yeah, I think so." I said, on September 3, maybe, "What are you doing on Friday, October 19?" "Not sure." "Wanna watch Northwestern-Eastern Michigan on ESPNU?" And so, officially, plans were made.

Man, that was an awful, awful game to watch. But there's no such thing as a bad win, and it's pretty cool to be 5-3, even though it should be 6-2 (or, perhaps, Mr. Purple-Colored glasses, 3-5).

Purdue's winnable, but more likely losable. I'll stand by my preseason picks of Purdue - Loss, Iowa - Win, Indiana - Win, Illinois - loss. That's 7-5, which is not the 8-4 I'm hoping for, but is pretty good. Of course, all of these are eminently losable.

Let's rank the conference (and, yes, I'll believe that Iowa is better than NU until NU beats them. For the record, neither team is that good, or any good, perhaps):

1) Ohio State (1 last week, Tier 1)

2) Michigan (2, 2)
3) Penn State (3, 2)

4) Purdue (5, 3)
5) Illinois (4, 3)
6) Wisconsin (6, 3)
7) Michigan State (7, 3)
8) Indiana (8, 3)

9) Iowa (9, 3)
10) Northwestern (10, 4)
11) Minnesota (11, 4)

- - - - - -

For the record, college football is about the greatest thing in the world. Mostly because of Tim Tebow and game-ending LSU touchdown passes and this cool fake fumble that Colorado ran in their win over Kansas and the fact that Kansas' coach is so damn fat.

Besides the obvious, and accurate, "college football doesn't need a playoff because every week is a playoff" (and, anyway, you're telling me that Alabama or Kentucky or Michigan or USC could be left out of a playoff, as if they wouldn't have a chance to win a 16-team tournament?) argument, here's this:

We all know that the best day of sports, period, is the first day of the NCAA tournament. Anti-climactic, without fail, is that Monday championship game. Why would we ruin what is still one of the most entertaining days in sports, New Year's Day, by making it "just another day" in the tournament. If there weren't a conference champ in the Rose Bowl, would it really be the Rose Bowl? Nope, it would suck.

Pam Ward tossed in some out-of-nowhere comment about needing a playoff on Saturday, and I just hate this concept. That's all.

- - - - - - - - -

There's this anecdote I've been meaning to record here, because it was just so funny. So, finally.

We've got music at the office. Usually, some sort of adult alternative, which means that it was cool in the 80s or in the early 90s or is Regina Spektor or the Old 97s. For some reason, mid-September, we played a day of disco and cheesy R&B and soul, and I don't know why. Post-volleyball, we were predictably excited and giddy - after all, sunny and beautiful in September. I grabbed my apple from the fridge, washed my hands, and returned to work. My deskmate did roughly the same. He's gay. On the speakers, we got Donna Summer's "Last Dance" and, immediately, he said, "Oh, God, I used to roller skate to this song in my basement." Predictably, I laughed, quite a bit. "I'm a walking cliche," he said, and then we laughed for another 20 minutes.

Oh, those gay people. They're just so gay. Ha!

It was amazing.

- - - -

So, I talked to my sister on Thursday. Awesomely, my sister's added photos to her blog and has, more importantly, also started writing again. Or, wrote one thing, that was a month old.

Probably the best part of the conversation was when she recommended that I make homemade macaroni & cheese, which I did, to great success, on Thursday night. The second-best part of the conversation was when she detailed just how she had become such a cold-blooded mouse-killer. Very impressive.

That girl's got a lot of joy in her, and it's awesome when it's all bubbling out. She had been in Krakow for a few days, and it was very clearly bubbling out on Thursday late-night. I hope it was bubbling out, and I'm sure it was, when she was in the English-speaking countryside pondering her M.F.A. possibilities, or the UK equivalent, anyway. I hope she takes all necessary steps to allow it to continue to bubble out for however long she hangs out overseas.

Also, Skype is awesome.

- - - - - -

I'm kind of over my youthful "Guided by Voices is the greatest thing to ever happen to the world" phase, though they're still my favorite band. There nowhere close to the band I listen to most (right now, that's probably Band of Horses, or R.E.M.; I'd probably not listened to GbV in full-length album form since at least June when I put on Universal Truths And Cycles on Sunday night), but I get more joy out of "Goldheart Mountaintop Queen Directory" and "Pendulum" and "Over the Neptune" and "Chasing Heather Crazy" and "The Best of Jill Hives" and "Crocker's Favorite Song" and "Eureka Signs" (I'm hitting early and late, 'hits' and 'non-hits') and "My Son Cool" and "Non-Absorbing" than I do out of most every piece of pop music.

So, anyway, it was totally cool Monday night when, on How I Met Your Mother, they played the entire first verse and chorus of "I Am A Scientist," right until they faded at "I am a pharmacist / prescriptions I will fill you."

It was amazing, and left me giddy.

And, for the record, I really enjoy watching How I Met Your Mother. It's not appointment viewing, but it's on if I'm home.

- - - - -

I really like writing here. Malaise lifted, slightly.