I just don't know what else to do with myself during a fifteen minute break. Maybe it's just me, but I seem to need those cigarettes during breaks. It's a silly, programmed response in my brain I need to break out of, but there you have it.

What else? . . . What else? . . .

Still no new friends in this suburb. I think that's the hardest thing to deal with right now. At the same time, I'm moving farther from my friends in Portland because I can't keep the insane late nights required to see them on-line. It's truly making me feel insanely isolated.

Insane. Isn't that what they call me? Psychotic, depressed, insane? Oh, well, what I need is a good friend or two out here before I get too fried on loneliness.

Now, if I could only remember how to make friends . . .