anything

'and the sign said long haired freaky people need not apply'

that's a lyric. and a sign that i'm spending too much time working and frying my brain so when i finally do get home i end up vegging out playing video games or watching movies, never leaving autopilot.

i still go out a lot, but it's switched from weekends to weeknights, and i still don't leave autopilot. i know i've enjoyed these parties, met cool people, and had fun. i really don't remember much, though. i think the extent of my memory covers being able to give a roster of who was where.

it feels sort of like a drug-induced stupor, like my eyes are affixed forward and my brain is encased in jelly. i've even stopped thinking in metaphors, something i never do. occasionally it also gives the outsider's insight that a drug-induced stupor does, but those are far and few between.

10.5 days of work in a row down, 5.5 to go.