A lot of time seems to be passing me by and there's basically no variation. I try to inject it, but I can't tell if it's my normal amounts of boring-ness or just the new normal how people look past me. The only memory that stood out this week was my mom finally coming into my room. She was asking if I was purposefully avoiding dinner with her and dad, and for some reason it made me anxious. I haven't been avoiding them. I don't think I have. But before dinner started I climbed out the back window and headed to the park. Dinner was waiting when I got back, but I wasn't hungry. I haven't been hungry in a while.