I have come to suspect,

over the past few years, that more than any simplification of moods as good or bad, my state of mind at any given time can be better explained as "input," "output," both, or neither. Waking up this morning was definitely a "neither" — I wanted to read nothing, say nothing, have no outside contact, not even with my own thoughts. Classic introvert depressive phase, you might say, and I wouldn't correct your interpretation. A little while earlier was an input mood; I lacked energy to do much besides read Leonardo's Mountain of Clams and the Diet of Worms, but the chapters I read were quite enjoyable, and those pages plus a brownie brought me to where I am now.

At the moment, I'm decidedly in an output phase. I don't have anything exciting to write about (heck, I'm characterizing my own moods for you here), and I don't really feel like talking with anyone. Not because I don't enjoy the company, just that right now, I'd only want to be talking at whoever it was, and that's what Jake's away message is for, for hurling random ideas out like rubber balls in an empty racquetball court. I suck at racquetball, as with all racquet sports, because I have no concept of the force or direction I'm hitting with, meaning that I don't know where the ball is going until after I've hit it, and am watching it bounce way short or long, or shoot off far to the right. And it's the same way with Jake's away message, or whichever away message I adopt for the night (note to self: find another away message to adopt for when Jake's offline during prime stream-of-consciousness hours in Japan) . . . I just toss the thoughts out there one line at a time, and then watch for a few moments to see which way they bounce after I write them. Which can lead to an interesting build-up of messages to come back to after a few hours. Most fall in the "I'm bored and tired and maybe I should read a book or play go or learn a language or find a job" variety, but every now and then something falls out that's truly interesting.

Of course, now that I type that, I'm trying to remember the last really interesting thing I thought of late at night while messaging someone's screen name, and nothing's coming to mind. I guess I'm a little overdue in that regard. I've been trying to do too many things at once . . . keep up the blog, talk to people, pick up another language, read Harry Potter in Spanish, read Stephen Jay Gould, write quizbowl questions, learn Adobe Illustrator, find a job, pacify the parents, make a webpage, watch anime, take stock of my financial situation, tutor my brother, rearrange my room, adjust to being at home. I've been home for two weeks now, and though I have no real desire to go back to school yet, there are times when I desperately would like to be back somewhere where I can lock myself in my room and not answer when someone knocks on the door. (Don't think I didn't, either.)

It's been a while since I've had a nice balance of all four moods, since school. I haven't had much desire for anything in the way of input and output of late, which would be a meaningful conversation, or an involved videogame, or something of that nature. The change of environment and lack of routine does that to me, I think, and I get all withdrawn more even than usual. I'm also spoiled from college, in a number of different ways, but that doesn't explain it entirely. By that logic, I should want to get out of the house, when all I've really wanted to do is close myself in. But an enforced schedule should help, and work is nothing if not an enforced schedule. I mope less when my free time is limited, though I hate to admit it. Ideally, this would have me working from 1:00 to 6:00 every afternoon for twenty dollars an hour instead of my having to get up at 7:45 and work until 4:30 or 5:00, but I won't complain. I have a job, and though boring, it's not the worst job environment, and my former employers (one of whom, oddly enough, was also my second grade gifted and talented teacher) seem ecstatic to have me back.

And so with nine-to-five looming in my future, I'm finally feeling grounded (in a less optimistic mood I suppose I'd say resigned), to the point where I can dredge up all the old survival techniques from past summers: actively seek entertainment options, make lists, decide what it is I want to do, read, see, play.

At least, I hope I'm at that stage. It feels like it right now, but then, I'm in an output mood.