Some people suffer more than others. What some may call their 'suffering' would be laughed at as juvenile by others. If you 'suffer' from restless leg syndrome, you are amongst the laughed-at. Those who have survived the Rwandan genocide are the laughers. At least they would be laughing if they knew who you were and weren't so hungry.
So very, very hungry.
If a student enters my class and says they are having the worst day ever I congratulate them on getting it out of the way so early on in life. Because I'm a dick. When the cause of their worst day is a misplaced pack of gum I just start laughing.
Some people claim to suffer from a type of graphomania - a compulsion to write. I feel a desire to write, but nothing so serious as a 'compulsion' has gripped me yet.
Which is why I've started this up again. It definitely beats a diary. Diary entries get old very fast, especially if you've more or less entered the working world. Unless you're part of the jetsetting crowd, don't bother.
Assuming, of course, that your diary is a creation for others and not yourself. If you keep a diary for yourself, well, have fun.
In the mean time I'll keep this going until I get bored and in the process disclose as little about my dull daily life as possible. Here's to round two.