“It may be the wrong decision, but fuck it, it's mine.”
Another warm November day, sunny and bright. And not even a hint of the headache, which is the first genuinely pain-free day I've had in...I'm not sure. I wish I could say that means I got back to work on "Untitled Psychiatrist No. 4," but it doesn't. We did make it back to the botanical gardens, though, and just walked in the light and the smell of roses and all green things. Better that than sitting here trying to write and not writing.