Found some old diaries, from 1993 to 1997, while I was tidying today. Seems I never learn. Same worries, same life, same crap. Just got laid off. Need to lose weight. Need to be tidier. Allergies making me miserable. Financial worries giving me stress. Pain of unrequited love. Oh. Wait. No unrequited love this time around. So, “almost the same shit, different year”. Fifteen years — almost a third of my life — and all I really have to show for it is that I’m now being laid off from better jobs and I’m avoiding love. Oh, and I have a cat. At this rate, I might be a really high calibre of unemployed, broke, and miserable by the time I turn 60. Awesome.