at the red eye cafe, downtown indianapolis

one thing about going through hard stuff when you are depressed is you are never quite sure what’s “real” sadness and what’s just your body tricking your brain into feeling sad.

i suppose i should just embrace that i’m sad right now, be okay with it, and remember that i won’t always feel this way.

where is that damn waitress? i need to take my meds, but i can’t take strattera without food.

hrrm…. three more cops showed up, to join the first three.

one of them is a chick — maybe five-foot-two.

weird.

also weird is that i can see an airport basestation hanging on the wall, but i can’t connect.

every network i can see is WEP protected.

i suppose when my waitress shows up (assuming that happens here) i can ask her.

cop number seven shows up.

new subject

a good friend of mine has invited me to come out and stay with them for a little while on the west coast, and i am tempted to do it. i can work from anywhere, and i have a credit with an airline to use.

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