Typing In The Dark

I'm having a day. I'm just so wrapped up in my own brain I can't seem to be productive. I'm doing weird things, like blogging in the dark, putting ketchup on my mac-and-cheese, and texting people I haven't talked to in ages. I have December by Norah Jones going through my head. It's a rather lovely song, you should listen to it.

What am I doing? I mean really, what am I doing typing in the dark? Why do I not care that this is neither benefitial nor life-changing? And why does mac-and-cheese with ketchup taste so good right now? I mean, really, mac-and-cheese and ketchup, that's kind of gross. But I can't lie, I'm diggin it.

I can't decide if I'm depessed or not. I'm not a generally sad person, like ever, but I can't really focus on anything right now. I kinda don't care about my homework or family or the people I'm texting. I guess I'm just super apathetic. Does extreme apathy count as depression?

I smell sex and candy.

whhrrr, whrrr. (The sound an overheating computer makes)
Julia