These goddamn receipts.  Why do I ALWAYS have to be behind on them, at this age?  Anyway here I am.  They just sit there and random movements from desk or if I breathe too hard one will fall off the pile.  Okay, that’s the one I’ll enter first.

Haven’t written in the actual journal in a bit… typing, I think I’m addicted.  The Kerouac syndrome.  Hard to quit.  Just too easy and fluid, what I’m used to.  And, older I get, it hurts to hold a pen and push it to lines for too long.  Fucking aging…

Youth in retreat.