The world feels like a chaotic, cold, harsh place today.
Everything is still up in the air with my latest attempt at a relationship.
I didn't sleep well at all last night.
I had one of my fits of tachycardia at work (a "spell," my dad would have said). And there was a weird vibe in the air among the crew. Or maybe my mood was affecting my perception...
On the way home, a rock, from the bed of a big dump truck flying by in the opposite direction, decided to make its escape just in time to hit my windshield. Hard. It now has a crack.
I don't want to die alone. There, I said it.
Why can't anyone care about me?
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