Dear Diary,

Well, it's good to be back here at Diaryland. I feel new and fresh. I think. Sort of.

Today was an interesting day indeed, considering I have no clean clothes, as I seem to be on some sort of laundry strike. Also I am living in squalor. Yes, I said squalor. For some reason I cannot convince myself to pick up my clothes, do my dishes, or organize my papers. I just DON'T wanna do it. So I don't. Every day I step around the piles on my way to work. Somehow I arrive looking clean and put together, but I am living in secretive squalor. Dear Abby, is this okay?

Hmm. Also, I have a bad habit of not eating breakfast. And then sometimes I forget to eat. And then my blood sugar drops and I become homicidal. Such a thing happened today. I stopped by a space to rent a room for my presentation. I seemed to be talking too fast for the woman at the desk. She seemed to be struggling with the scheduling program, which is honestly not that hard, I've used it before. She finally invited me to sit on the couch while she ''figured things out." I think I was bugging her. I realized that if the scheduling program wasn't actually challenging for her, then she probably would be bored at her job like I was in all my previous jobs, and she would have a breakdown and quit. Thus she was probably in her perfect job. I felt like everyone in the office was looking at me funny. Maybe I looked like I was on the edge of a blood sugar breakdown. Sometime after that I realized if I didn't eat something I was going to lose it. I felt close to tears. I bought a salad and ate the chicken off the top in the street. Oh, lovely.

No matter where I am going I am always running late.

I am going to start a 5-day fast this weekend. I am terrified, of not eating. Does that make sense? Well, it doesn't have to make sense, it just is. Please say some prayers for me, Diary. I think I'm very attached to food, and use it as distraction. Don't be surprised if I lose my mind.

Love,
Duck

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