So it's two in the morning and I have to be back at work in five hours. So it makes sense that I would choose now to really think about some things and worry myself in circles.

Well, actually that seems to happen any time I try to make myself go to sleep. I worry. I worry myself sick, I make myself feel physically ill. I remember everything, I think of everything, I keep myself up until I finally pass out and forget in the late or exhausted mornng.

I suppose that's just how I am. I often feel like I'm getting through life like it's a big pile of boxes and I'm clumsily dropping them.

I think of my ambitions and my hopes and my fears and my regrets. Oh why must I think so much of regret?

Yet as ever, surrounded by wonderful friends I find myself feeling alone and unattended when this is clearly not the case.

My alarn is set for three hours time. There's probably no point in trying to sleep now.

Look at me here, trying to spill my worries with a public dear diary almost as a cry for help. It's unbecoming. It's not what I should present to the world.

Gah, I'll pull myself together and poke my chin up. I'll walk into work looking exhausted but smart and I'll bounce back before I know it. I'll get back to playing guitar and I'll get back to University this September and I'll probably get back into serious creativity.

There's a lot of other stuff that's no-where near sorted out in my head enough to even mention here.

Anyways.