and so, i seem to have that most comforting of things, a routine. i wake up, eat breakfast, go to work, and either play or work in the evening. reading on the subway all the while, backgrounding the bad stuff, foregrounding the good stuff; you know, the skills that people have to deal with life that i'm cultivating. i keep myself busy; it's true that one of the ways the city should theoretically fit with me is that it's very busy, which is good, because in the absence of things to do i often fall into unproductive thought patterns (especially now, when there is substantial uncertainty about my medium- and long-term future with regards to jobs etc..)
i'm still very, very sane; no real dents even so far. it's been trying, as i expected, and i'm passing, as i expected. day four.