I cooked. Not using my scary oven but the toaster oven. I made Lemon Chicken. It was good. I’ve regressed into 5th grade english too. Creepy.

I think too much. And not about ways to save the world but about the stupid things that aren’t true but for some reason I make them so. I project this miserability (new word) on my life and by doing so I make myself believe that it’s true. Things are, in reality, quite good, I suppose, but I have these insane threads to the past that I can’t seem to let go of or move them into the proper category. The-one-that-got-away texted me the other week for my birthday and I hadn’t talked to him in ages. We dated back in 1992 but it was just nice and since that time we’ve been friends and he now has a child with his partner and I’ve so very happy for him but feeling a little … juvenile by the whole thing. I was an idiot in regards to him and no, i’m not as crazy about him as I sound. Actually when we were texting I realized that I was happy for him and didn’t feel any of the jealous pangs or anything.

Dammit, I hate when I get distracted. So I think too much. Why I hate birthdays. Why is it that when i’m nice to some people I get totally shat on. Why everyone thinks I’m a pompous ass. Why I still think that when someone near me is laughing, they are laughing at me. Krazy.

Work needs to calm down dammit.