Two mirror selfies from december

at work and at a bar. I had to go to the bathroom like 4 times that night. 

 

New Computer

 two thousand dollars. 

I'm so glad to have it, but it's already like I've always had it. Nothing novel about it, just a computer that works. I was hoping the dopamine of having a new shiny thing would drop kick me into a new mood but it's not really. I am really enjoying typing though. This thing is so untouched by slog and the keyboard does not yet know clay dust, and my thoughts are flying through my fingers like lightning. Well, not quite that speedy- I keep making typos and mucking up my flow. But it feels good, it feels good to type. I've been working on my ipad and phone for a long time now and those devices are not for words. They're not for sentences, they are not for thinking. 

I have a wound inside my right nostril. The scar is so tempting, each day i claw it out with the nubs of my fingernails, and am immediately and locally flooded with pain. I can't help it, I must pick the scab. It's getting bloodier and bloodier and bigger and bigger. You can't tell from the outside, it's not swollen or anything. But if I press my finger to the outside of my nose, the pain makes it feel swollen on that side. 

I've been a curmudgeon lately. Just yucking yums, not enjoying things. I'm not finding delight in the everyday. I can't revel in the wonder of art and cinema. I need to attack this grey cloud twofold. One: stop telling people how much you dislike the experiences you're having lately. It harshes everyones mellow. And two: fix this. Dear god, you need to be happy. I have a nearly full bottle of antidepressants from a few months back that I stopped taking because they made me feel fatigued (feeling tired all my life didnt't prepare me for chemical fatigue). But, I cut one in half today and took it. So far so good. I am on a road to wellness. One foot in front of the other. One foot. In front of the other. And then do it again. Repeat, repeat. Walk down that bumpy, unpaved road. Ease on down it. 

Salt and Chocolate in my teeth

 

I've just hoofed a chocolate chip cookie from the bakery, from Yardsale. I ate a burrito the size of a cat before that. I am tired and awful today and eating is the only thing that feels good. Sleep would also feel great but no time for that. 

From the last post, years ago. Let's see what I've **manifested**

I will have a good job, and it will pay me good money. 

I have a nice job, I work as a ceramic tech and teacher, and I've bullshat my way into a position as a social media coordinator. I don't know how good I am at this yet. I don't make enough money to live alone and I am 35. 

I will feel comfortable in my own body, in terms of weight and hair and also muscle tension and foot pain. 

I'm fatter than I've ever been. I look horrific, like a baby hippo all shiny and taut, eyes bulging. I have a button up shirt on today and was dancing badly to Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter and realized that I look like Christopher Lloyd's Uncle Fester. My hair is half done- less than half done, actually. I had some hours on Wednesday to braid my hair and none since then. It's in a bun with a survivor buff hiding the mess. 

I will find love. 

In no way. This is an impossibility. My personality for one. The aforementioned similarity to a baby hippo, for another. 

I will have a home. 

I am literally living with a friend in her office because I can't afford to live alone and I needed a break from lviign with strangers. 

I will make something I am proud of. 

I like some of the work I make. But my output is pathetic and I have no career to speak of. 

I got to the restuarant I went to and sat down and started crying. I'm not even sad. I just couldn't stop my eyes welling up. I think I'm broken, I'm not actively sad, I'm just. I 

I don't know.