I haven't been writing at all lately. My journal can't even look me in the eye, and I swear I can feel the computer keyboard glarring at me in my sleep. Sleep has been a stranger for a few weeks now, and the only familar face is red wine and marijuana.
I have been working a lot, and perhaps dating too much. I had narrowed it down to several bachelors; and now it's down to one. I've been losing sleep about having to tell the others I am letting go.
It's still not feeling like Christmas.