And now I'm coming to the end. The bullshit gatekeepy doctor who postponed my Orchi asked me if I planned to kill myself at the end of the 110 weeks. Guy was a goddamn weirdo. I don't feel like I'm ending anything! It's actually a comfort to have this disastrous trauma occur that I didn't expect or see coming, if only to remind me that things will always continue to change, for good or bad, and that's interesting.
I learned recently about the "end of history" illusion. I'm sure it applies to my brain like it does anyone else... It's just strange to me. Especially if the past two years are any indication, I expect to be unrecognizable two years from today.
I mostly just hope I'm employed.