Excessive

I don't want to write.. I don't feel like writing at all. I don't want to. Yet here I am sitting and writing out of some kind of habit or mental requirement... I don't even know why. I feel obligated, and I suppose that's good. Keeps things in check and that's important right?

Work today was stressful and I think it's effecting my brain... it's effecting my mood and where my mind's at. Or at least I like to think so, I like to think it's what fucks up my brain. We had some fancy crap that we had to do extra and strange, not normal prep for. It was pretty all over the place and I had to keep asking and finding things to do and I just felt useless but not useless, and felt stupid but not stupid and the whole thing left me feeling off.

I worked from 1pm to 9:30pm, and the dinner went okay.

Bekki walked to work to meet me and we got driven home by Allen. We made dinner, a beef stir fry with a beer, and watched an episode of Dexter.

After dinner, we watched Jimmy and I've put Bekki under a couple blankets on the couch so she could fall asleep after such a long day full of airplanes and stuff. I'll probably go to sleep soon, as it's later than it feels, and sleeping seems like a good idea.

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