I don’t know what I was thinking on Tuesday, April 3rd. Probably nothing at all. I was certainly distracted by an overwhelming, lingering, emptiness, even though things are going fine. I just wasn’t feeling well. Not feeling “on my game,” being just sick enough, with creeping self-doubt mixes together into self-destructive disaster smoothy for me. With most of the remaining expired bottle of diphenhydramine, in fancy blue, I took 175 milligrams of the old familiar deliriant.