I don’t think you can return an item for spite.

Today flew by.  I’m out of town visiting my sister again, so I’m way too disoriented to keep track of time properly.  My anxiety is too high.  I feel like I’m waiting for the starting pistol to fire, signaling me to run like I’m being chased.  Knowing I’m being chased by my own fears is intensely frustrating.  I want to meet those fears head on, but I haven’t even managed to identify them yet.  I feel like I’ve lost my place in my own life story.  It’s uncomfortable.  I know it’s temporary.  It just sucks right now, while I’m figuring out how to get through this unexpected detour.  It’s hard to concentrate lately, especially on abstract concepts.  I think whenever I take a hit to my ability to concentrate, I panic a little.  It’s one of my superpowers, and I rely on it heavily.

I tend to be either scatter-brained, or hyper-focused, with very little time spent in the middle.  I suspect my level of interest plays a large factor in this.  I’ve been reading a lot.  I re-read Lock In by John Scalzi last night.  It’s another favorite.  Reading is my favorite way of dealing with insomnia.  I think I’m going to re-read something by John Irving next.  Last Night in Twisted River will do.  He’s in my top 5 of authors.  I’m feeling the loss of Pat Conroy, so he’ll likely be up after that.  I’m off to read.