whatever and ever.

shit has been so twisted lately. I haven’t had a solid place to live, and crashing on couches fucking sucks. My dad has been drinking more and more, bringing on more hostility. Tonight, a girl fucking had a miscarriage on my shift. It was bloody, and terrible. It took me two hours to do my paperwork tonight because i’m pretty sure someone stole from the register when i was trying to comfort said girl with miscarriage. I finally made it to my sister’s house, but when i went upstairs to the room she told me to sleep in (tile floor, futon mattress on the ground) my foot was greeted with piles of cat shit in front of the door. Apparently her cats use that spot as a litter box, and no one bothered to tell me. Went downstairs to clean myself off, came back up and cleaned most of the shit of the floor, and made it into bed. I’m laying here, and once again, the stupid motherfucking cat has the nerve to shit outside the door while i’m in here. What is my life? When will this get better, or even a little easier? I don’t want to be this pissed off and miserable forever.

Living with an alcoholic is absolute bullshit.
I am not spending my Sunday night trying to catch some shut eye in my car, in a church parking lot.
I need to move the fuck away from this cock sucker and never look back.

I just set an alarm on my phone titled, “pay yo tollz, BITCH”.
All that’s happening right now is a cat block party in my sister’s neighborhood.
but I swear, I’m too tired to even join them.
I had a weird night turn great last night. It’s still very confusing to me at this point.
Anyway, I’m napping.

I love mornings like these. Where I went to bed early enough the night before, so I wake up early. Except I don’t have much of anything to do, so I can make breakfast and coffee, and seek refuge back in my bed. I can read, draw, or just sit and listen to music. Time for me, away from work or having to act interested in people’s conversations. It’s like therapy, I swear.

Sometimes res hits are good enough. What a relief.