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It's mighty late

I'm not exactly sure why I'm still awake, but I am and for some other unknownreason I feel compelled to write. I'm on my iPod Touch so if things read funny you'll have to forgive me or wait until I wake up in the morning and edit this post.
It's been a strange week for me. I've been staying up oh so late and then waking up early. Sleep walking my way through most of the day, convienently finding things to do that occupy my time and very little else. I haven't completed the dishes in days and the laundry is divided equally between dirty, clean but nfolded, folded but not put away and clean foldedand put away. It's a pretty impressive balance to achieve if you ask me. School work has been giving me some forms of regularity. I'm thankful for that.
I do find that in this state I see the flaws in myself and wonder why I can't just not be that way, but be ause they are flaws I worry that MY idea of how to fix them might not be the right way to do it at all, because it is a flaw afterall. Mainly I'm referring to people skills and time management. I don't understand how I could have possibly earned degrees from schools of higher learning but am consistently unable to wash dishes and store laundry. Some aliens must have stolen my brain, it's the only logical explanation.
When I'm like this I take most everything personally especially things that have nothing to do with me at all. I think I should name it "center of my own kingdom" dis-ease. I desparately need to shake it off because it affects everything I do and heat and see going on around me. It's a form of depression, I'm sure. But I'm also sure that it's caused by a hormonal dip. I hate hormones that don't work right.
I think tomorrow I need to do something good for my soul like clean the kitchen or finish the laundry. Something that helps me remember the very essence of God. To remind me that it is better to serve than to wallow in my self centered poorly constructed kingdom. I hope that tomorrow I can be a servant in the King's true kingdom instead.

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