I pulled out a lot of my old prescriptions today.

I then lined them up alphabetically on my coffee table.
I had forgotten how much of that crap they had put me on after my parents were killed. I had also forgotten how little of it I actually took. Most of the bottles were over half full.

All part of an ill-fated attempt to attract ladies turned on by tortured geniuses who don’t take their Zoloft regularly.

I searched through them, hoping one might help stop my nosebleeds, but all of them seemed to list them as a possible side effect.

Meanwhile, the search for my true inner self continues. According to another online quiz - if I were an action-movie character, I would be Indiana Jones.

I guess I need to buy a fedora now.

6:37 p.m. - Thursday