Written on the morning of Friday, January 9th:
This is embarrassing.
As I write this there is a mild throbbing in my head.
Why do we self-destroy?
A week or so ago, I stood outside my gym, waiting for a ride to come pick me up.
I realized I had my checkbook with me, and I gave into an impulse born from curiosity and boredom.
Do you know how smart mathematicians usually deal with complex math? They look for the simplest and most elegant solution, as it is often the most effective and most accurate.
Don’t underestimate the power of limitations. The ability to put limits on everything you do is a…
I have a confession to make: I really, really want to be successful.
You might be wondering why that’s a confession. You might not be wondering that. I have no idea.
Either way, I want to be successful.
Here’s a formula for you: 1. Things happen. 2. People interpret things that happen. 3…
Addiction to cough medicine. What a weird thing, right?
What? You mean everyone’s room doesn’t look like a hurricane met an earthquake met volcano met a Godzilla?
It started small.
An ex used to call me on her breaks at work and ask me what I had for lunch. For some reason (or reasons) that I’m still not 100% clear on, this annoyed me.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Sorry for the profanity. I guess.
No other way to kick this off.
I just burped up this acidy glob of evil. There’ll be many more globs to come before the night is spent.