I should sleep now.

My car doesn't start. It did this morning when I went to move it, but after that, it died. I miss it. I can't drive an automatic. I almost killed myself because I stepped on the break with my left foot today, believing that it was the clutch, and I was just coasting.

I'm working so much this week. Thinking about it makes me sick.

I'm thinking about a lot of things right now, and they're making me sick.

I miss dates. I don't think I've actually ever been on a legit date. My entire relationship with Ray, we were always with friends. Before we got together, we were just friends, having out with friends. I want a date. Take me somewhere, anywhere. Anything. I want to be on a date because I want to feel like I'm wanted still.


Ugh.

Clearly, I'm just not in a good mood, and I'm alone, and there is a driveway full of cars outside that remind how I'm missing out on this awesome movie I've wanted to see.