Now that the waves of all-consuming depression have returned to their frothy nonthreatening ocean scenery I am free to comment on the ills of society once more. I'm still pretty concerned about my future and getting an internship and rotting my brain via data entry, but I've discovered that so is everyone else. Just the other day I overhead a girl in my class commenting on how she feels her work is never good enough and that everyone else always does it better. I thought no one else felt that way. I also tried meditating. I was rather reluctant; meditation seems like something blonde haired vegans engage in when they're not dicing tofu or leading a crusade against whale killers, but I tried it nonetheless. I found it to be simple yet relaxing and I enjoyed myself. During the breathing exercises I found myself visiting childhood memories of sheer bliss and then my thoughts turned to my lovely boyfriend. Before me he had a girlfriend of three years with whom he shared an apartment for the last year of their relationship. I never really expressed an insecurity about this until a day ago when I was focusing on my breathing. I had seen her in a few pictures but longed to come in contact with her, just to make sure she actually existed. As I was sitting on my bean bag in a room full of faux foliage and painted walls, I felt the most intense hatred for this precedented love of his. I cannot imagine my boyfriend sharing a bed with another woman, whispering things in her ear, running his hands through her straight hair; I cringed to think about the inside jokes they inevitably had and the way he must have looked at her the first time they were intimate. I just can't picture it. I can only envision myself with him, I can only see my short stature in his life and not that of some other woman with a different name and different sounding voice. How could he have lived with someone else? I bet they made dinner together and snuggled on the couch while watching a lame movie. I wonder how many times he told her he loved her and I wonder how many times she caressed him in the dark serenity of the night. Ok, I'm getting a little obsessive, but this is the man I've spent a year with and that's a first. I just struggle to imagine another girl in my place.

So that's what I uncovered in my first session of mediation. More to follow.