I bought the new Relient K album.

I don't really have time to write lately and I can feel the words building up inside of me. They might run out of room and die. Like little plants with no room to root. Terminal rot.

I'm tired of going to my second job. I don't want to do it anymore. I'm so, so tired. I don't know if I'll keep going the next four weeks. I'm going to do it one day at a time. One day. Like today.

And I wish I could stop worrying so much. Worry doesn't fix a thing. Doesn't change the outcome. Its hard to remember that.

Time for work. I hate this so much. It is all my fault I have to do this. Stupid, stupid me.