If it isn't painfully obvious by now, I've been spending time on myself. I may be kind of old to be going through this, or maybe not, but I still don't know who the fuck I am, really. I can only find out by spending time with myself.

I've been sorting through all my belongings, slowly. I'd like to know exactly what I own and why I have it. I'm tired of keeping all this other trash around. I listened to music while I cleaned. But I just put iTunes on shuffle. It's my husband's music collection. I don't really know what's what. Rather, I could know, but I don't really care. If I don't like it, I'll skip forward. It's amazing the stuff that grows in dust behind things that haven't been moved in years. I'm sneezing and itching fairly often.

I've also been spending some time sorting through my thoughts and memories. I'm seeing things in a whole new light.

I just got distracted and cleaned my keyboard. I've been getting distracted and restless while struggling to quit smoking. I've been so crazy the last month. I didn't quit, but I'm not letting myself give in for too long. So I'm often going through withdrawal. I go a day or three, I smoke till the weekend. I try again on Sunday. Repeat.

"What do you mean you can't play chess? I thought people like you are supposed to be good at chess."

Well, I don't know what you mean people like me, but I just don't know how to play chess. I might be good, if I knew how to play.

Two years ago I was settling into my new job nicely.