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So hard to let it go.

Work has gone back from being a nuisance to being a routine. It is more related to my own mood than the actual work I do, I think. That's okay. I was working on a report my supervisor had given to me. Check lists. Cross-reference lists. Find the missing funds. I opened my desk drawer.

Where are all of my pens? I asked myself.

In place of my office supplies and papers were various minor decorations. Most prominently featured was a bag of fake pearl necklaces. I closed the drawer and grabbed a pen from the neighboring desk. Oh well.

I keep forgetting that my birthday is coming up this weekend. There are just too many things to take care of, first. So much work to do. To catch up on. To plan. We started filming on Wednesday. It went well. Not as fast as I would have hoped, but even so it was satisfactory. There is a good cast, I think. We chose to work with good people. There is a good chance, I think, that this project splits our friendship. I can feel tensions rising. These things happen, I suppose.

We'll see what happens. Hopefully things do not get too bad.

I saw an old friend recently. We do not speak all that often, now. That's okay, I guess. It doesn't seem to bother her all that much. I wish I could say whether or not we're on good terms. It's hard to tell. We used to be good friends, but we've both changed. We've gone in different directions. We have great differences now, irreconcilable. I don't know why I keep going back to try and keep up. I can tell that she's desperately trying to fit in somewhere else. Trying to be someone she's not. That's okay. I do not care enough to try to intervene, I think. Or am I afraid to? We will never be the way we were.

It's better that way, I suppose.

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