Yesterday, I woke up feeling down. So I joined my Mother and Father in their grocery shopping, and I got to buy 8 cans of Jack and Coke. That’s a maximum of 2 cans per Friday or Saturday night. Because of that, I went home feeling good… then I remembered something that broke my heart. I brought that feeling to my sleep.
Today, I got my weekly hangout at Satchmi at lunchtime. I enjoyed my favorite affogato while I updated my planner/journal, so I was able to get things off my chest somehow. Then I went to Ippudo and had ramen with my Mother, Father, and Younger Brother. What a lovely lunch. After our lunch and a fresh haircut, I went home feeling good… then I remembered again that one thing that broke my heart.
What’s that one thing that broke my heart? I’m not ready to talk about that here on The Dispatch. In fact, I have never talked about it to anyone, and I would like to keep it that way for now.
Anyway, I just remembered what happened last September 17, and that makes me feel better. I should sleep better now.
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The Diary of The Deranged Writer 