Of Potatoes and Problems

13,447 Days Alive

1,300 Days Straight on PostmarkWonderland

Today was… rough. Ended well, though.

Work sucked more than us usual. I felt unwell from anxiety all day.

I really need to find a place that doesn’t make me dread getting out of bed in the morning.

I’m just… toasted.

I’m glad it’s the weekend. Cleo and I met up for dinner this evening and went to a place in St. Petersburg called The Half Baked Potato. The owner, Ozzy, was a total, delightful, weirdo.

Anyway, not much to say tonight. I’m going to bed as it’s eleven and I have shit to do in the morning, like laundry.

Take your meds, folks

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