Soiled and sullied.

My beloved pastime of visiting the grocery store no longer appeals to me. If I cannot wander at will, I see no point. The trip otherwise becomes a mere chore. I loathe chores.

I’d rather not eat.

—–

Will I, or won’t I?

I can’t seem to make up my mind either way.

—–

It’s early yet, but I would much prefer to be sleeping. Occasionally I get serious doubts as to whether I made the right decision in moving here. However, I am fully aware that if I had stayed in Cerritos and gone to Fullerton, I would be complaining just as much, if not more than I do now. Although I wouldn’t exactly label this as a complaint.

I am just ridiculously introspective. I’ve mentioned how many times that’s gotten me into trouble.

—–

I hate my mother. I just wanted to throw that out there.