I didn't feel like going to work today, so I took a long drive. I had no specific destination in mind. I just wanted to escape for awhile. I thought about heading to the mountains and camping in my car for a couple days, fantasized about driving to another state and starting life over again, even briefly thought about driving off a cliff, but I didn't. I drove straight east for 90 miles and realized that I was near a city I use to live in. I hadn't planned on visiting, but since I had nothing else to do, I got off the highway. Growing up, we lived in 5 different homes in that city over the course of 9 years. I drove around to see if I could find them, I only found one, a dilapidated apartment complex. I didn't park, but drove past it a few times and tried to remember what it looked like inside. I remember the living room, the sofa, the kitchen, the bathrooms, but for the life of me, could not remember what my room looked like. Did I have a room? It was a long time ago and we only lived there a few months. They were dark months.

On my third or fourth trip around the block, I noticed a women on the sidewalk with a big stick chasing and hitting a man with it. The woman looked disheveled, possibly homeless, and really pissed. The man was laughing while dodging the blows and trying to get away from her. The laughing annoyed me. A piece of me wanted to run him over with my car, which I would never do. Was he laughing at her for chasing him with a stick, for being angry? Did he do something to her that he thought was funny and she didn't? I don't know the circumstances of the argument. Maybe he was just some random passerby who laughs nervously when homeless women chase him with sticks.

I'm back home now and nauseous. My stomach's been unsettled since yesterday's psyche appt. I wonder if its the medication or maybe just nerves. Who knows.