Like getting up in the middle of the night to think about yourself.

A strange thing happened to me today. I flipped out after I made a trivial mistake doing something that should have been fun. The correct term, after thinking it through a moment, is “mortified”. I couldn't believe I wasn't paying attention, and couldn't believe that the mistake just happened.

The more time I spend with myself, the more neurotic (I looked that one up, too) I become. Apparantly it's hard to run away from yourself, even if you can manage to avoid the rest of the world.

My mother suggested doing a little something each day that you really enjoy; something to brighten up your day and make it all worth while. What do you do when you don't feel that anything is actually worth while? I have a million things that should make me happy. More, in fact, since I'm in a position to provide more things that I can't currently think of, if I so desire!

There is nothing wrong with my life, so why does it all feel so pointless? The more I think about it, the worse it gets. Is hypochondria a cause of effect of depression? Who knows! Ah, I mean … who cares.