I'm so depressed, I'm reading Queen's Own again. Isn't that sad?
Word bump is a fun game, even if it takes a lot of concentration to play it well. Then again, James is trying to get me to appy to Mensa, and he's not stupid so his theory that I'm fairly bright must mean something...
My arm is peeling again. I guess I've been washing my hands too much tonight. But bread-dough is sticky, I have to scrub to get it off. Momma would blame it on malnutrition... but I just don't care enough to worry about it. Either the not-eating-right or the arm-falling-off-in-layers.
I guess that's my main problem tonight. Lack of motivation for anything. I just can't bring myself to care. Life has no meaning. Seems like it's going around recently. Gotten two or three messages from friends about their depressions in the last week. Even my idiot brother is a little stressed seeming. Which doesn't make me feel any better, I mean, if none of them can beat it, how can I? Why should I bother? I can't even needle Phil into lecturing me.
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