Fair bit. So much. Everything moves so quickly, and so slowly when you're paying attention. I'm not even sure when I last wrote any of my thoughts down. Maybe I've missed much, but maybe none of it was of that much note. I really don't know. I want to be sure of things, but I'm not sure I know how anymore. Out of control. I feel like I've lost it, misplaced it somewhere.

Moved from Cott. Now with Tim. Scares me still. But it's also kinda cool. Maybe. I think I'm still a little apprehensive. I don't know. It's good, but I always question when anything's positive. I hate me maybe. I don't know. It's all that bit strange when I have to think about how I see myself. Two completely different ends of the spectrum. I want the best for me, but a little voice screams that I don't deserve anything that's even vaguely good.

It's kinda nice having someone to come home to. It's a good feeling actually. To come home to someone, and have them tell you they love you. I so badly want to believe it all the time. Damn that screaming voice. I'm bored out of my mind with work. I've given myself a new title, "the glorified receptionist". I'm over-qualified for what I do. It's mind-blowingly boring. Pleasant enough crowd, half decent renumeration, I think I'll stick around for a bit. I might even end up staying there more than six months.

I see Tim everyday, but sometimes it feels like I don't anyway. We're around each other, doing completely separate things. I need more interests. Like real ones, not the "yeah, I like reading/writing/playing games" interests, but real interests.. things I actually want to do, feel passionate about. I'm really sick of milling around and flopping in front of the damned telly, mac or a good book.

Gaaaaaaah?