Malaise?

I woke up this morning feeling very lethargic. I did not want to get out of bed, I did not want to get dressed, and I certainly didn't want to hike across campus for breakfast --- and yet I did, if thirty minutes late. The sky was covered in grey clouds: overcast. I don't mind it being overcast, but it is also unseasonably warm. I should say "seasonably if irritatingly warm" given the climate the past several winters. It's the middle of November, and yet people could be perfectly comfortable walking around the nude. Breakfast -- usually heartening and enjoyable -- did not wipe way my lethargy. I did not have much of an appetite, and after eating in silence for several minutes and finishing my grits and corn beef hash, I left for the library.

I collected a few books relating to my two term papers. Both are due next week, and while I have the majority of the notes I need, I still felt that I needed more. Although I did collect a number of books, I took few notes. A line from Froissart's Chronicles, a table from The Arming of Europe -- but that was really it. I spent the morning reading an Asimov book, and incredibly even IT did not make me feel the way I do the overwhelming majority of the time. I felt tired, listless. I curled up in the chair and read the collection of short stories, occasionally going for water and then getting rid of the water once my body tired of it.

The fatigue and thirst -- and later, the inclination to gag -- visit me infrequently these days. They usually come with a sinus headache, although (praise Athena) not today. I finished the book at 12:30, which is good timing, and made my way across campus to the dining hall. Usually I stride quickly, head high and looking at the sky and into trees and all around me at the world -- but today I kept wanting to stare at the bricks as I walked.

As I made my way closer to the dining hall, the want to gag subsided -- although there were a few instances when I thought I would have to take cover behind a tree and er...provide subsentence to the fungi spores at its roots. The cafeteria's offerings were slight -- fried chicken, which I find repulsive -- and a few other dishes. I got the chicken stir fry. Lately, I have started avoiding my usual eating place in favor of the gallery, which is used for special functions and is not too popular with the students. It consists of a long, wide tiled room with round tables here and there. It is quiet there. Today, though, I felt drawn to the sun room.

The sun room is a special part of the dining hall: it is surrounded by glass walls and an arching glass ceiling. The room is only lit by sunlight, hence the name "sun room". At night flourescent lights come on. I almost always sit there, despising the crowded, artificially bright, and noisy dining hall. The sun room is also crowded, but usually not as much. I found an empty table and began eating my pork stir fry and reading a book by Peter Singer on ethics.

After dinner, I felt restored. My lethargy was gone. I had craved sunlight, and either it or the food did something for me. I felt much better now.