CAN SATIRES SAVE THE WORLD???

What makes me feel this way? Dense scholarly books on early 17th century poets (John Donne); a whole weekend of everyone's family and friends... except that I spent it studying and I still don't know if anyone is coming to visit me anytime soon; bad bad American coffee; not knowing who is my friend and who isn't; thinking about grad school and how on Earth I'm going to pay for it or the continent/country where the school should be and how that is going to affect the rest of my life; lack of time and energy to really focus on writing, writing which at last seems to be getting somewhere and is being praised by fellow students and teachers. And my relaxation techniques are not working all that great, cuz how many baths can you take in one day if you don't have time to write a poem? (actually, I end up writing while I'm in the bathtub, to save up time). And redecorating my room every other day is actually tiring. And I don't think there's space left for more postcards. And planning my outfit for the next day only takes me five to ten minutes. And daydreaming ends up frustrating me even more because it's daydreaming and if I stop for a second I realize that all the things that frustrate me are REAL... and if I don't stop daydreaming no-one understands me, which is kind of problematic if I want to be a good teacher and a good student.
So... pleeeeeaaaasssseeee come visit!!! or write or call... I appreciate any interruption. I don't want to go back to John Donne and his stupid satires and the pedantic nonsense that scholars write about it. H-E-L-P