This is not the diary of Laura Palmer

Hi. How have you been? Thanks for checking back even though I haven't really been writing. I'm just not sure if there's much I want to say right now. I'm so fucking exhausted. I came home from tour, flat broke (perhaps I should've kept some money in my account instead of buying records that I can't listen to) and went straight back to work. Things haven't, uh, been easy there to say the least, but as you know, I don't like to talk about work on the world wide web. It's not as bad as I might be, so whatever. It does include overtime and stress, stress that is made worse by my shitty fucking diet. A shitty fucking diet that exists because a) I can't take care of myself and b) my finances. When I get poor enough, I can't eat even though there is food around.

Normally, I would be drowning in situations like this, and I'm barely treading water. But I'm smiling.

It looks like I don't post much in September, and four years ago I was a mess.