scattered

Today was a car-crying day. Car crying is not a good thing emotionally. It's not great for managing an SUV on busy city streets, either.

I don't know what's wrong. I do know that it will pass. That's what the drugs are for, and I just have to trust they'll do what they're supposed to, much the same way a window washer trusts that his scaffold and pulley system will maintain its integrity on a windy day.

There are just too many thoughts in my head.

I've been absorbed with television in lieu of actual thinking. Tonight's Daily Show made me laugh so hard I couldn't speak. That had to be good, right? And doesn't that show evidence that there's some organized thought process in my head?

I think that to really make that TV show, Big Brother, interesting, they should populate the house only with people who have bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, and PMS. I would watch that.