raybear | This is an alarm call, so wake up, wake up now.

Here's the thing about being me. It's exhausting and frustrating and maddening. But damn, if we don't have fun sometimes.

It's completely pouring down rain right now and my only thought is "will my iPod stay more dry wrapped in a plastic bag and shoved down my pants, or wrapped in a plastic bag and put in my shoulder bag?"

I'm in a weird but great mood because I just wrote this long rambly private entry that had some valid points but it was mostly just dumping, just getting it out of my head, about all sort of randomness. And sometimes I like to save these types of things so later I can think "hmmm, see you made it through! why were you worried?" but somehow I'm wondering that by keeping it, I would still be holding onto all the worries and fears and patterns of behavior. So after writing paragraph after paragraph after paragraph, I highlighted the entire essay, and right as one of the attorneys walked up to sign a letter, I hit delete.

I see it as the written equivalent of watching the thoughts float by you down the river or past you on the mountaintop.

So maybe tonight I can write something else, something fictional, that will draw on the ideas but won't just be about therapy for my own anxiety.