I’m doing okay, I think.
I’m getting sick, and my body feels like death warmed over, but I’m okay.
It’s nice to be okay.
So I had a bad day, it happens.
Today I saw this guy I used to like, and my thought process went exactly like this:
Don’t let him see me.
Where’d he go?
Plan, plan, plan.
Oooh, that smelled good.
My hair is ugly.
Please don’t let us see each other.
Oh, I didn’t get to talk to him.
That’s about the level my minds been working on for 24 hours.