I pulled out of my driveway this morning around 0400. Within minutes a knot started forming in my gut and by the time I stopped at a gas station for coffee, as the sun was coming up in Huntsville, Al, it was screaming at me.

What was it saying? Turn around. The reason I've lived this long is because I always listen to my gut, so I did. Now I'm sitting back at my house with visions of a Biloxi beach dancing sadly in my head.

Man, if I was depressed before, I'm bordering on suicidal now. It's a good thing I don't believe in that shit. Had a nice evening with my gun expert neighbor Daniel last night and we had my sawed off shotgun loaded to the hilt, one in the chamber and the safety on. He said I should take it with me, which I didn't, and the first thing I did when I got home was rapid eject five shells onto my table, flipped the safety off, and pulled the trigger.

So what now? I really don't know...