mnvnjnsn's Diary

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a trailer down by the river

I am unmotivated. I am so unmotivated, if someone were to pull my chair out from under me, Iíd just stay on the floor. I am so unmotivated, people who stop by my cube, with or without work-related requests, arenít even acknowledged. I just sit and stare at my monitor, playing with the scabs I have about half an octive to the right of my belly button. I am so unmotivated, I only had one margarita at lunch on Cinco de Mayo. Iím so unmotivated I canít even finish my chocolate chip muffin. I am so unmotivated, I donít even want to go into the story of how I took my car in for $400 worth of work and ended up spending $1400 because, evidently, had I driven even a mile longer, about 10 things would have caused the axles to break, the engine to explode and the headlights to emit skin melting laser beams. I am so unmotivated that my Wonder Woman calendar is still on April. Iím so unmotivated, I donít even want to waste time taking diaryland surveys. I am so unmotivated I canít even talk about the Alias season finale, let alone speculate on who exactly Vaughn married.

I am so unmotivated, I donít even want to over-medicate. This is a serious problem.

So, to go along with my unmotivation, I've put John Cale's "Hallelujah" (you know, the one that always makes me cry) on neverending repeat. What's with the depression, you ask? What's up with that? I don't know. That's what's so fucked about depression. Sometimes the drugs work, sometimes they don't. And when they don't, it's like the depression is 50 times worse and that much more inexplicable. Trevor Dunnigan takes my depressions far too personally, which depresses me, and irritates me, and so is of little help. It's time to meet him at Safeway. I hope the traffic isn't too bad. That will make things ever so much worser.

2:42 p.m. - 2003-05-05


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