I ain't been right. The following thoughts stemmed from a late night drive/junk food binge.
- That mess in my workspace has finally been cleaned up. I feel better, but I don't feel better enough...if that makes sense.
- I shouldn't deal with what ifs, because you can't change what's already happened, but I wonder what would've happened if I hadn't ended that date with (name withheld) on a handshake. What if I had taken her up on her invite to come inside? Would we have fucked or made out? Man, I think I could've used some casual sex in my life, although it would've flown in the face of my somewhat devout Christian lifestyle. I doubt I would've smashed a whole lot of honies. Probably would've been random hook-ups with women of all ages.
- I'm eating, because I should be doing something else. The past month has been a huge mental block, where I've been should've been getting this one thing done, but fear of failure/trying has kept me grounded. When I get a flicker of urge to do said thing, I eat or drink instead.
Or I get on the Internet.
- I've got six sample boxes of an ADHD drug to try, but I need to finish this MMPI-2 questionnaire first. It may fuck with my personality, and I want the test to be accurate.
- On nights like this, I hit the night in search of fresh air, and a tiny bit of excitement. I look at the night life types outside of Whiskey Dix with a mix of disdain and envy. Disdain, due to the whole bullshit night club experience. Envy, because of the unbridled enthusiasm of the participants. The goal is to have a good time, and maybe get a little somethin'. And if you're not tired by the end, the pursuit of a good time continues. Man, if you could bottle that shit.
- I'm wondering if I'll ever get over myself.
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