I'm mulling {Ilovethatword} my existance over cereal. Orange juice. This is the first time I've eaten breakfast in days, I think. I'm itching to go over entries and delete them. It's part of the pattern. Maybe I'll just go back and reread, because I know if I hit that delete button I'll regret it later. I'm living that example right now, kicking myself for wiping [modernromantic] clean. I have no momentos of the last year except two handwritten lists and a funeral handout.* Everything else is digital history. *Which I cherish. They're hidden in a box in my room somewhere. Maybe I'll dig them out. I have nothing better to do today. Alex and I drew calendars on the tabletop with our hands last night, and that's how I'm trying to arrange time now. Not just today and tomorrow but years and months. Revising my timeline. June. July. October, October. November. December. January. February. June. STAB. Stop thinking about boys. Boys are complicated. Yes, people are complicated in general, but it's making me feel better to be able to stereotype. I'm typing without looking, just to see if I can. I can. I win. Who am I trying to kid. I can't win. Haha.