If I could dig a tunnel I would, oh I'd network under your neighborhood, and we'd meet there through night.

I worry too much. That's what I tell myself, and then I think, 'but what if I do have a reason to worry, and I'm just telling myself I shouldn't worry because generally I do worry too much?' And that's the sort of thought that gets me all confused, and then I wonder if I should be annoyed at myself, or the thing that made me worry, that I'm still not sure I understand.

This is just silly.

And it makes no sense.

And really, I ought not to let such a little thing bother me. I'm not really bothered about it anymore, but I needed something to log about.

Or am I?

Why do I dwell on such a little thing...? The person that caused me to worry about this tiny little detail probably meant nothing of it at all. So now I'm going to go to sleep. And when I wake up I'll have forgotten all about this. Which is why I ought to blog again before I go to sleep so that way, when I wake up in the morning and turn on my blog, this won't be the first thing I see.