Signs from the Safe?

At work on Thursday I fed a ten dollar bill into the "money vending machine," as I call it, to exchange for a roll of quarters. This is what came out.


I apologized to Adam.

i don't really understand schrodinger's cat

Today a girl with a thick European accent came into work asking for directions to Dayton. Her eyes were very pretty in an understated way.

"If I go this way to 2...40?"

"270?" I offer, and her eyes light up in recognition.

But of course, always horrid with directions, I wasn't much more help than that. When she tried to open one of the maps and was confused as to why it was sealed shut, I pointed out that she'd have to buy one if she wanted to use it.

"Oh! In Germany you don't have to buy." Of course I thought of Adam Rose, feeling a little bit guilty for the last contact we'd had, missing him a little.

But of course I couldn't repress a little inward snort, too. I would run into the German going to Dayton.

Thursday

A dillion pregnant women came into work.
I thought more about slicing the cut down my arm.
There was a letter from Adam Rose.

it's the little things that make you worry

Is there a nice way to tell someone you want to blow them?

No, I don't think there is.

vapid as the new chiz

Since I got to Delaware, I've been sleeping more than usual and have had an absolutely insatiable craving for chocolate. I am absolutely ridding the house of all things chocolate. I went up to 120mg of Cymbalta a week or so ago.....mostly I've just had dry mouth and my skin itches all over for no apparent reason.....so I'm contributing it to that. I feel like I'm more lethargic and unmotivated than ever (ex. my only goal for today was to repaint my nails and I didn't even manage that). Going through cycles of extreme to moderate self-destructiveness, although so far I've held off on actually acting on it.

I've been thinking about my ghostie SO MUCH, and today I actually cried at some gay-ass Wether's Original chocolate caramel commercial. sigh sigh sigh.

I fear I will one day accidentally smother Adonis to death 'cause I can't stop squeezing him, he's so fucking precious. Clearly I would not do well with a human child.

I've been feeling the need to talk talk talk everything out of my head and into reality a la Cora Sharpe.

Today I felt internally fidgety, anxious, impatient, yet still managed to spend the overwhelming majority of the day on the couch.

Also I've decided the medical community should rename MDD, 'cause there's a huge difference between feeling depressed or being depressed and.....having depression, and it gets confusing. The disorder is so much more varied and complicated than the single emotion. And no one who doesn't have it fucking gets it.

ALSO, I've decided that the description of MDD as an episodic thing that you can get, be treated for, and then it will eventually go away is BOGUS BULLSHIT and they only say it to make people feel better when they first realize they have it. Depression isn't circumstantial. Not the real thing. It's not the emotional equivalent of a flu you can get after your dad dies or you have a baby or you're stressed out at work. If you've got it, if you're really depressed, you've got it for life, baby.