Houston

Twelve hours of sleep and I'm still tired. Who would've thought coming home would be so tiring? On another, much grosser note, I feel so dirty. I will be very glad to step into the shower. Some of my depression is wearing off; perhaps I am being comforted by familiar surroundings. My stuff. It's cloudy here, and if it stays this way, I may just stay in bed all day long and hibernate.

I have bills to pay. Big ones. I'm not very excited about it. I was really enjoying having no responsibilities while I was away. Now the gravity of everyday life is descending upon me once again. Sign this, pay that, get this get rid of that. It's neverending. And I still haven't seen the beach. My favorite time for walks on the beach is when it's cloudy with a little bit of breeze. Just cool enough for a light sweater. I like the way the sand is cool against my feet.

I have lots to do. The closer I get to my birthday, the more I realize that everyone I know will be busy. And not with me. Everyone forgets my birthday. I guess I should expect it by now, but this is a big one, and I was hoping for better. So the depressing birthday gets more depressing every day. Thirty days to thirty and counting. T-minus ten. Houston we have a problem. What else is new?