I'm anxiety bonkers. Can't shake it. How much of it is my financial panic? How much is this illigical, groundless selfishness over the Possible Boy/Aural Girl dating situation? And why the hell does that present itself as anxiety, too?
I wish I could switch back and forth between Human Annabell and Robot Annabell at my own convenience. I'd be a robot long enough to complete a certain set of tasks every day, keep all budgeting and accounting in order, and maintain perspective on all emotional life-pimples. I can be human for everything shiny, savory, or available as a mouse.

I can't write, either. The last few days. Writing too much for my  businessy crap? Spending too much creative energy on photos and blogs and forums and general whoring? It's effective, but I'm sprinting back towards insane.

See what I mean? Can't write worth a CRAP. So frustrating.