12,443 Days Alive
I got a lot accomplished at work today. But jeeze am I fried. How is it only Tuesday?
I feel like an empty sugar bowl.
It’s just that terrible spoon against a few sparse grains of sugar and ceramic feeling. I dunno. Maybe my meds need adjusting.
It’s only a few more weeks until my insurance kicks in. And then I can go to my psych doctor and get these depressive episodes addressed. I should find a therapist when I have insurance, too. I keep talking about it but never seem to get around to it. Life just gets in the way.
I need to make it more of a priority, I guess. But the wherewithal to fight for a provider is so damn hard to find.
Oh well. I’ve a few weeks till I can worry about it. Why borrow more stress?
Things will get better.
I miss home. I miss my Darling Wife, Tink, and my cats. But I’m helping here, so I’m glad for that.
I’m going to bed.
Take your meds, folks.
Postmark Wonderland 