I am right here, alive and well. I’ve just been remarkably unmotivated to write (or do anything else, for that matter). Over the past week, I received my new computer. It was very cool, but I managed to find things about it that annoy(ed) me, so I shipped it back to them to have it sorted out.
If I am still displeased, I will be sending it back to them, permanently.
When I first began to realise that this little incident was a microcosm of my existence, I laughed.
Now I cry. Alone, of course.
When did I get so picky?