I hate these days. Something just ruptured in my brain this afternoon and made me feel like this murderous rage. Not really. I don't exactly rage. Sometimes I wish I did. Maybe it would be better than sitting alone, crying. Ah, maybe it would be worse. I need something more than work and tv, I know that. Exercise. I'm waiting again. For what? I don't now. Waiting for everything to be perfect so that everything will be perfect. Waiting to not have these days anymore. Stay off the ganga and booze might be a good start. Get some exercise, get off the couch, start some renos or some cleaning or some studying. Something. Something. The problem is, when I feel like this, I don't want to do anything. I can't concentrate on work, I don't feel like reading, tv is boring, exercise is a joke. God. Forever the see-saw. Should I just learn to accept it?