I guess I have to figure this out in writing for starters. If I can’t find the energy to do that, there’s little chance I’ll find the chance the do much of anything else.
Writing exhausts me. Any activity exhausts me. Work this morning was the most engagement I’ve felt in a while. Work is real. Work is science is my job is real. Anything that’s just for me, I don’t care about. It has to be for someone else, for the patients of our company. Mandatory selfless.
I slept a few hours just now. I didn’t want to sleep all day but maybe I should have. Maybe I should have.
What comes out. I honestly don’t know. This will be stated multiple times by the time I’m done.
Hold on, have to go downstairs to get my decaf.
I went downstairs to get my decaf. Dad assaulted me with “I like you to be my teacher to set up my Alexa”. Fucker. Useless can’t do anything on his own piece of garbage.
I feel refreshed a little bit now. But I want another decaf.
I don’t feel like writing.
But writing is therapy is how to solve your problems is how to think it through.
I don’t think I can do that anymore.
I’ll just have to wait for real therapy on Thursday.
I am so sad.
No more writing.