Tired. Frantic. In a cycle of anxiety that's entirely a creation of the chemicals in my head. I've not been able to settle to anything in the last months. It always feels like I'm running behind, even if I'm not. I'm lo-fi and there's a loose wire somewhere and the record is worn down to pops and hiss. Bah.
One of these days I'm going to go back and see if there's a pattern to these "poor, poor me" posts. Maybe I'm just somekinda half-assed lycanthrope, one were my brain is the only thing that gets hairy and enraged come the full moon.
Hey Fred, I hope you're doing ok.