the wrong side of the bed

Saturday, June 26, 2004

we don't like people, so we talk to ourselves*

the only person i have spoken to today is My 1950's Dad. i needed caffeine desperately, saw him in his office, and begged some change from him for the vending machine. end of story. i have had 3 email exchanges with living people and two or three with an automated response program. i feel like, all things considered, i'm doing pretty well. sometimes i get quite depressed when i don't interact with people. for a while last fall i would even get depressed during lulls in conversation. talking to people helps me shift focus away from myself. reba thinks i need a pet, but i tend to think that harboring a secret obsession with someone would also serve as a needed distraction from my own head. who should it be?

* these aren't my sentiments, but rather those of Morla, the giant tortoise from The Neverending Story. so don't go saying that i'm all angsty or something.
5:57 PM


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