I'm resuming this blog, but I'm not going to inform its former readership (a few people at best) that I've resumed it, which means that in all likelihood, no one will read this. I kind of dig it that way, because all I really want is an everywhere-accessible journal, no audience required. But since the gestalt of our current world seems to be such that even one's semi-private ramblings are meant to be tacked up for display in some remote corner of the public space, I'll do my part and toss this out there.
I think I have an ulcer. Or maybe colon cancer. My stomach does funny things on and off, and I really need to get it checked out. I should make a doctor's appointment tomorrow morning. And I should do the dishes. Those can be my two productive things before I go to work.
Or I could never, ever get out of bed again, and that could work out okay too. I feel like there's cement in my chest. Is that possible? why am i writing properly if no one is reading?
