OK. I need to stop. I need to articulate why I feel so crappy, but for some reason, writing isn't helping. All of this is just obfuscation.

I just feel spent. Mentally and emotionally tired. I mean, yeah, I had a rough rotation, yeah, my life can be distilled to two things right now, medicine, and my obsession with this war, and not much outside of that.

The short-circuited part of my brain wishes that I knew someone who would be willing to be an emotional dumping ground. (Because this blog is only a storage area of sorts.) The paranoid part of my brain realizes that I probably already know someone who is so willing, but circumstance makes the relationship less than ideal, in seriously very demented and absurd ways. But I will speak no more of that here.

And it comes down to this: I do not know what I want. No, not really. I mean, outside of a week or so, I cannot imagine a routinized framework for my life that would be sustainable. For the first half of the year or so, I have been working with this "destination or bust" mentality. I wasn't really planning on saving any fuel for the return trip. Planning was never my strong suit.

So that's that. I just need to sit down and prioritize things. I just don't want to, is the problem.

Enough. Life beckons.