Ugh, LIFE

       I had plans today. I was going to have a hamburger dinner, and then a smoothie. Or maybe I'd do the smoothie for breakfast. Well, my family didn't leave me any burgers, and there was no ice. I was offered a grilled cheese, but apparently I can't do cheese anymore. I think I'm still recovering from the sandwich I had this morning. I was also offered bacon, but I can't really do that, either.
      So my food plans are shot to hell; and everything else is slowly going up in smoke, too. My game is going great, but the program it runs on is going to be replaced and a lot of players have lost everything. A lot of players haven't, but I've never been one of the lucky ones (except for three times I managed to correct my balance before I fell). My book is going okay, I guess, but I've never been able to save my work long-term. Put it on a CD? Uh-oh, the CD has become corrupt. Email it to yourself? Uh-oh, you've been hacked and now it belongs to someone else.

      On the topic of bad luck, now I keep having the same dream, where I'm pulling this thing almost as long as me, out of my mouth! You have no idea how horrifying that is. I have mentioned being able to feel my dreams. Imagine feeling that. And if it isn't that, I'm stuck in a maze and all the toilets are very public. Or there's a crash, or an animal attack, or someone I love dies. Sometimes in a very brutal way. Like getting shot at least twenty times within seconds.

      I've started to wonder, honestly, if I am or will be a psychopath. I wasn't thinking that before Canada reached Defcon 2, and I felt nothing. I was more scared of spiders than I was of Defcon 2. But of course no Defcon 2 ever traumatized me as a little girl. The thought I might be or will be a psychopath couldn't scare me, either. I just didn't care. I don't care. I'm trying to, but I don't.

      So I've just been in bed a lot, and I'm stuck. I hate being asleep, and I hate being awake. I've tried so many things to help me sleep. Pills, a hot bath, a hard walk, Vicks, Aloe Vera, intense heat on my back, and if you're related to me, then you're going to wish you hadn't continued reading, because I've also tried gratification. Whatever, it's my fucking blog and I'm fucking old; leave me alone. The only thing I haven't tried that we are capable of getting in this house, a lot, is wine. I've been so against it. I see what it does. I know it can destroy you. But it does get tempting. My mother swears by it, says it helps her sleep. Now all I can think about is that I've been that person who thinks they know more without having one moment of personal experience.

      What I have done, I've even combined. I still couldn't sleep for eleven days. I'm pretty sure that hell predates our getting placed into a hotel, which was over 100 days ago, and I'm still messed up from that. My bedroom is still not finished. Like, how fucking lazy is this landlord? Worst part is, he's probably vacationing somewhere beautiful, feeling great.

      Maybe that dream is why I always feel so nauseous. It could also be worms; I passed one once and it hid in the toilet until someone else found it. I didn't even know I'd passed it until he was freaking out, asking if I was okay. Not since I've been alive; why do you ask?

      I can't even believe how humiliating my life is. The only reason I even got up before 8 PM is because I need to get up early tomorrow, which means I'll need a shampoo tonight, which means I'll need to wait a few hours before I can bend over without screaming in pain. I hate my bed. I hate that I've had it for so long. I hate that I'm too broke to get a new one. I hate that so many people are too broke to take care of themselves. I hate that it's only getting worse.

      I hate life.