You know the song Glacier by Unbunny. A few lines in that song describes this day pretty good.

We’re moving like glaciers now,
when we move at all 

and a bit later

Well, i waited for the weekend
but the weekend didn’t want me

It’s slow. Undead slow, almost down to a halt. Half past eight and I’ve assumed the clock should be well into the night. There is this restlessness combined with apathy, this ambivalence is probably what they built the movie Scanners on. Not that it give unbelievable headaches but in that it’s not fucking normal. On the other hand, normal seems to imply that the brain is made of cotton.