I feel bad for the Peter Pan woman.

I’ve been sort of lost in my head today, or my imagination, and it has been just so goddamn unsettling. My imagination isn’t obscene by any means. I just overanalyze. I don’t think it’s “obsessive” as much as just wanting an impossible thing:

To find meaning where there may have been none. To know what was never supposed to be known. To think about “what if.” Different choices. Saying more. Saying less. (Maybe it is obsessive? Rumination? I’m hardly stalking Peter Pan though. God, I am so sad for that woman. Yes, it’s problematic, but I wish people would leave her alone). I’m just stuck in my head.

I try to identify patterns all the time. But there are just so many things that make no goddamn sense. None. I turn on an episode of “Dateline” to occupy my time. It’s someone’s tragedy. I turn on a show from the 80s that I used to find comforting. I notice the laugh track. Then I can’t unnotice it in every scene. What am I doing?

Book. I need a book. I have so many. Which one? I need to return text messages. There are people who I should talk to. Who want to talk to me. I put it off. I am tired now. I have slept so much today. The day is almost over.

Now what? Just pick a book, Caitlin.