When not at work, I find it hard coming up with a reason to stay awake. I'm ashamed of my house because of the ceiling damage and the messiness that I have no desire to rectify. I think it's all cause to Scott. He just needs to come out of his room and I cringe.
I've felt hatred, and I've desired revenge, but I've only now discovered the depths of loathing. In fact, I don't think I understood the word completely prior to this.
I'm disgusted with myself. I can't believe I've gotten this big and I'm having difficulty dealing with my age. Everyday I see some change, some rebellious act performed by my body. On top of that, I'm really craving someone to touch.
It's morning as I write, dressed and ready for work but I hesitate. After a weekend of nothing to do and wishing I did, here it is that I have something imminent, and I just want to crawl into bed and die.