Coffee: Maxwell House Drip, Office Coffee
For two minutes in the cutting 7pm cold, I saw a long-haired white and black cat. It was sitting on some stones.
I had dinner at a Thai restaurant. Spicy curry. It was full of carrots and snap peas. Who puts carrots and snap peas in their curry?
This afternoon, I looked at the dishwasher and saw it was full. I considered making it empty. I’ve got dishes to put in. In the end, I didn’t do anything other than look at it.
My brain isn’t screwed in right. I’ve been working, writing. I’ve been successful. I’ve spent time with friends. I’ve gotten drinks with coworkers. I’ve walked in the rain and watched black crows take cover. I’ve done the things I love. I’m not at all happy. It’s a weird feeling. Admitting it feels weirder. But I think it’s important to be honest about uncomfortable things, otherwise no-one else will feel comfortable being honest about uncomfortable things.
You could call it depression.
Novel Count: 30,740
Currently Reading: The Sense of an Ending, Julian Barnes
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On a bare branch a crow is perched – autumn eveningBasho