It's been a month since I last wrote, and what a month it has been. I'm fairly confident the entire world is just exhausted, slightly feral, and ready to sit in a quiet corner with no bright lights or loud sounds for a little while.
And now its Friday the 13th.
But here's the deal; I'm pretty sure I've blown out my anxiety meter. I just can't get to "I care and I'm worried" levels and I think it may be because you can only have so many anxiety-induced migraines and panic attacks before your brain shorts out. I'm feeling like Ford Prefect in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, who looks at Earth being demolished with mild curiosity, instead of being Arthur Dent who is, justifiably, freaking the hell out.
