I have an interview tomorrow. I’m currently camped out in a hotel after a day spent driving in one big, nine hour U.

I smoked today. While playing a slot machine at a casino. I don’t feel particularly good about either.

What’s my truth today? I think I might be too tired to know. I’m more apt to run to extremes in the kind of condition I’m currently in.

It was a beautiful drive.

I was happy for parts of it. I hated myself and was full of shame for parts of it. I was angry for parts. I was scared and just on the other edge of sanity for parts. I was wishing someone was next to me for parts. I was joyfully alone (and singing at the top of my lungs) for parts.

I am too many things so much of the time.

I don’t know if this just means I’m human or if it means I’m a crazy one. I’m beginning to think it doesn’t matter. That it’s enough to know that this is me, and that who I am, crazy or not, is plenty good enough.

Even the me who was putting dollars into Goldfish with one hand, and sucking down smoke out of the other one.

Maybe if I just keep repeating that I will eventually believe it.