Nothing to speak of last night.
Vague dreams about doing a lot of physical labor alongside some guy I really hated.
This week is starting to feel long. 1.5 hrs left to go on work, and I am super hungry.
Some days, I feel like continuing to try is pointless and useless, and that even if everything was to go well from now on, that the stress of 'waiting for it' would never go away at this point. I wonder if it means that it's too far gone. Am I trying to ride a dead horse through a ghost town here?
Sometimes I think about all of y'all from before, and I just get so goddamned mad and insulted and disgusted. I wonder if there's a point in trying. Then, now, the future?
What's it ever gotten me, really?