I had a bad night, and my mind is still captive of things to do, things to remember, as if all threatened to run away with the wild horses. My thoughts are obsessive about one thing, and for once I can't blame the one thing: work, because the pressure is mine.
Today I didn't run because of the night I had. Perhaps the strong beer was not a good idea. Taking the wrong pill at night, too, I think. I worry more than folks can imagine. I am not depressed. I don't remember my dreams. I am hoping for a good day.
Amourx.
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