Well, I'm back. Whether I want to be or not is a different question, one to which I honestly don't have an answer right now. There are things here I'm glad to have back, or more so people than things, but you get the idea. On the other hand, there is any number of things I don't want to deal with. And none of those are helping the pre-existing neurotic tendencies that I am prone to already.
So what more do I have to say now? I'm not entirely certain. I feel like I'm out of things to say and still have another paragraph and a half to write here. I've got other things on my mind and other things to be doing right now that don't involve crafting a blog post based on absolutely nothing worth writing about. And yet I'm still trying to pull something out of thin air here.
One hundred and four days. That's how much longer I have to put up with this nonsense. My conservative estimate for how long it's going to take me to calm down even a little bit is possibly around a month. So that leaves a possible seventy-four days to attempt to enjoy. And I'm fairly certain they won't be back to normal or alright yet. But at least that's all that's left. At least once that's over it'll really be over. I can't wait.
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