stressors

I felt good because my environment felt good. Air conditioning, dishwasher, laundry. People who have stuck around. Family. My favorite foods.

So it’s fair to say, part (or most) of why I’ve been feeling so down prior to this weekend is because my environment felt so awful. Too hot to dry my hair, or do anything really. Washing clothes is so much trouble and they never feel clean. God what I wouldn’t give to run my dishes through a dishwasher just once.

It’s nice to think that maybe life wasn’t all that terrible, and I wasn’t all that terrible, but that my environment just wore me down a bit.

Busy is good. If I were different and were avoiding thinking by being busy, that’d be one thing. But I ruminate. It should be listed on my special skills. I obsess.

Busy means I don’t have time to obsess.

Not even over his concert or his night in NYC or his Tinder dates. Not even that could bring me down this week.

Doc says to shave some Seroquel and take it tonight.

Probs a good idea.

I just wanna dry my hair more often. (Who would have thought behavioral therapy should include a hair dryer?)

 

 

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