Woke up feeling like I got hit by a fucking truck. My brain is a swamp of nursing school debt, existential dread, and the ungodly loud sound of my roommate singing in the shower. She's got a voice like a fucking angel, which is a problem because now my brain has decided to hyper-fixate on the mental image of soapy water running down her back. Cool. Cool cool cool.

Spent the last four hours 'drawing' which is code for staring at a blank page, thinking about her thighs, then aggressively playing a farming sim to distract myself. It's not working. The intrusive thought of the day: wondering what it'd be like to finally not be a virgin, specifically with her. Like, the logistics of it. The awkwardness. The potential for me to fucking panic and yeet myself out a window. But also... her hands. Christ.

Anyway. The US healthcare system is a dumpster fire, capitalism is a scam, and I'm pretty sure my only marketable skill is being able to disassociate for eight hours straight. Might order shitty pizza and cry. The usual.