I wonder sometimes if my role in life is just to be used by as many people as possible before I finally give up and die. It seems like everyone senses that I'm the sort of person that is easily used, and then they happily do so. If I think back as far as I can remember, this has always been the case. I really don't like this, but it's been that way so long that I have accepted that's just how life is going to be. Life is pretty boring here, but I suppose it is for you too most of the time. If you weren't bored, you wouldn't pay so much attention to what I'm doing. For the most part I make an effort to not think about you, because it only makes me feel worse to do so. It's hard not to, though, because there are so many things around here that remind me of you. Every time something happens in my life, I try to relate it to how long it was before or after I met you, or before or after you left for Virginia, or before or after you stopped talking to me entirely. It's almost like an OCD or something. I planted some radishes so far, but nothing else. I have plans to plant carrots and maybe a few other things. More importantly, I've put gypsum and vermiculite into the soil, which hopefully will make some of the plants happier. I know it probably seems strange, but in my confused head, it seems like I'm having a conversation with you. I try to think back to how you would have responded in the past, at least before you hated me. I don't think you know what it's like to be this alone in life, with nobody but a few senile old people to keep you company when you can stand them. Sometimes I just break down and sob for awhile, when I think of how my life has turned out. I miss my parents terribly. I miss every dog I've lost terribly. I miss who you used to be terribly. Eventually I drop off to sleep, and wake up again in the morning to do it all over again. It's just a big vicious circle. I thought you might find this interesting: iChip: The Future of Antibiotic Discovery I hope you are doing better, but I know you are. Seeya.