I don't feel like eating. I made food, but I don't feel like eating. I feel instead like retreating into a world of hate and loud music. I don't like that I almost let my temper get to me... not to the explosion point, but to the point of self-loathing. Dude, chill. I'm used to being able to go off on people when they irritate me... you can't do that with customers. It's even worse in a bank because you're really pinned behind the counter so you can't shout annoyingly patronizing things after them as well.
I'm forcing myself to eat. Consider it a partial birthday present, Becca. I'm choking down Hot Pockets and cool anger. And music. One song, on repeat, and LOUD.
I love how music feels crisp like dollar bills when it's new to me. I also like how you can put an album away for awhile and the freshness will return. Thank you, Local H. I really needed As Good As Dead last night.
It's too much... you're too late.
I want to see it all again
She said: "Keep this benzene ring around your finger
and think of me when everything you wanted starts to end."
But everything I wanted is only beginning.
I will take care of you...