Worn to the quick.

I’m tired and angry. I can’t actually seem to stop being tired and angry, and there’s nothing in particular which I can think of that would have caused either, although there is a lot of flare-up of the angry for very little provocation. Taken all together, that’s a pretty good sign that I am having a bad day, I cannot trust my judgement at the moment, and I am probably going to crawl off to bed early and spend a lot of tomorrow muttering “I love my meds” and trying not to get prickly with my coworkers.

I hate this.

This isn’t interesting, I know. It doesn’t even interest me, and it’s unfortunately occupying a lot of my attention right now, but it’s not interesting. Like road rash, I imagine: also not interesting, also something that comes to the forefront of your mind and pushes out useful things. I know it’s not interesting, but dear god is it engrossing me at the moment, and as I am trying to get something written today, this is what it is about.

Four more days to the weekend. And I got my hands on the second Cthulhu Apocalypse books early this morning, which seems to be more in a toolkit-for-apocalypses (apocali? apocalypsos?) vein, so that might be interesting on the bus, or something.

I’ll be better tomorrow. Just need to get there from here.

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