More of same

God I feel like a broken record, but I’m just miserable today. Don’t
want to anything other than maybe write code. Don’t even want to do
Beer & Badminton. Every hour of every day: the weight. the weight, the

And then I feel doubly weak for writing about it, because I know so
many people that bear up so much more effectively than I do.

What gene was I born without that I don’t enjoy this? I guess it’s not
so unusual. I hear Lincoln could barely drag himself out of bed a lot
of the time. What drove that man to be what he was?

Just a few years. Just a few years I have to be better than good. Just
a few more steps, a few more milestones, and I can relax.

I hope it’s true, because it’s all I have.

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