Taxi Blog

It's just me and this empty space, isn't it? I'd just as soon not go on and on about how Tuesday's shift went; I have concerns that far exceed a single block of time in this void. Let's say it went well and be done with it. No problems, no fear.

That should do it for that. Let's move on, then, to...more taxi driving. Then you'll get an earful about it soon enough.

These days are filled with the kind of emptiness only a strong depressive state can bring. I used to have...things to do, or wanted to do. Now I have a situation bordering on comical dread of weekends and other dead spots. I recently learned the term for loss of pleasure in things. On Monday, I'm sure I will relearn it, perhaps to forget it yet again.

It's a strange life now. The hours are literally staring at me, for I have no idea what to do with them. It's though I've been flushed of all desire and need, and there is nothing to replace it. I still have 'interests', but they have become such abstractions that I get the impression I'm dealing with a memory of a memory of any particular one.

And I thought I was apathetic and unmotivated before. Now I know these things far too intimately for me to be termed 'well' by any stretch of the imagination. I am drained, I will go now, and take only the slightest satisfaction that I was able to squeeze this much out.

You will likely be hearing of my long-term troubles shortly. Turn away if you cannot stand human flaws and failings; what I do to myself and others is worthy of imprisonment in a psychiatric ward. Fortunately, I managed to spend some time in one, fairly recently.

It was pleasant; and it wasn't the medications.