I think I’m coming down with something. I HOPE I’m coming down with something. I don’t particularly want to be sick, but I also don’t want to think that I’m feeling this terrible for no reason at all. Physically I guess I’m fine, but I’m mentally worn the fuck out and feeling really, really down. I know that I don’t have to have a reason to be sad, but it’s better than this hazy, undefined cloud of angst I’m attempting to wade through – every single thing in my life right now feels like an insurmountable, arduous impossibility. I’m very rarely like this, so that’s why I think something is up. Something not normal. Something ominous, perhaps accompanied by this. Go back to hell, forces of darkness! My soul is not yours for the taking!

Strangely, the thought of beating off demons with a cardboard tube – which of course led to thoughts of beating off demons – cheered me up quite a bit. Also, Ed is bringing me tacos for lunch.

I’ll be fine. I just need some vitamin C, a good cry, and something to look forward to.

Also, tacos.