Flavour of the Weak

The romantic escapades and trysts and forays into adventure that have managed to elude me for yet another weekend have left me more bitter and cynical then usual.
I actually banged a table today in the Meeting Place - like, with my hand. And referred to my ex as, "That bastard." In the company of three guys. THAT'S HOW BAD IT IS. And although I could go on about it for, like, a year, I've decided to channel my stress and anxiety and negative energy into something (much) more productive: A marketing campaign.
What am I marketing?
Only the most top-of-the-line-impossible-to-get product ever to hit store shelves: myself.

Apparently, it has come down to this: I'm running for Services Coordinator of ECSU, and it used to be because I thought I'd do a really good job (what with my extensive expertise in the field of... running things... and stuff...) and to spite some people, but now, after this weekend, it has just come down to being about me wanting to prove to myself, above all else, that I can do SOMETHING. Anything. At all. And if that means being a superficial polititian and, as a result, burning bridges I've worked hard to maintain with aquaintances for 2 long years because I happen to like these people, and not just so that they'll vote for me, then so be it.

This means it'll be really bad if I don't get the job. Because I'll lose at the one thing I was supposed to win at. To prove I could win. At something. Get it?
Because right now I feel generally useless in every other respect.

Forget the fact that I can't get anyone else to figure out what I want.
I don't know what I want.
I have NO CLUE what I want.
But it's not this - whatever 'this' is.

Somehow making that assertion brings me no nearer my goal - which is counter-intuitive.
You wouldn't think it'd be that hard.
Fact is: everything changes moment to moment.

Like, the moment I'm getting out of one bus knowing I'm going to wait for another has me wishing I had a car to drive to school. But the moment I'm walking by a gas-station and I notice the gas prices has me thankful I don't have to worry about a car.
Well, the moment some cute guy sits down and talks to me has me wishing he's not a complete retard so that I can develop a crush on him. And when he turns out to be totally cute and witty and charming and I can't think of anyone else, I'm wishing I didn't have a crush on him. And two seconds later, he says something, and I don't have a crush on him anymore, and I'm wishing I did, because it was so much fun. And then he looks at me, and I do, and I'm wishing he'd ask me out, but he does, and I'm so not feeling it anymore.

Am I insane?

If your answer still isn't "yes", how's this?
When ****n told me today that he wasn't aware I'd called him on Friday night/early Saturday morning (even though we talked for a full ten minutes at said time since he woke up and answered his phone - seemingly alert), I wanted to crawl under the tile floor and die.
Yeah.
THE TILE.
That's how bad I wanted to die. (And crawl... possibly.)
I'm thinking of painting my new room "Looney-Bin-White". Padding or no padding? Maybe it'd be better if I gave myself a concussion...