Thursday, August 4, 2016

Going, going, gone

The days drag by. I sleep, I eat, I sleep some more. Then it starts over. I might as well be dead, but I don't want to die.

I wanted fried chicken for lunch, but I did not want to get dressed to go get it. It's hot outside. I did not want to lug my o2 tank to the car. The road department is working on most of the main streets that would take me to chicken. I do not want to bother anyone to get it for me. I hate to ask for help.

I had the chance to see some friends who were on their way through from Colorado. At the last minute, I couldn't make myself go. I was told not to think about it but to be spontaneous.

I am sinking without an anchor.

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