I feel, well, silly, and weak, for not being able to deal with my pain quietly and on my own. I always end up talking about my interior agony, but I feel like that's a failure of dignity and self-respect.
I can't live a life of quiet desperation, it seems.
No, I have to be a walking whine and cheeze festival.
My asthma's behaving itself, I'm just not sleeping well-side effect of amping the dose of stuff that's caffeine and adrenaline analogues. That, stress, and the actual caffeine pills I take to combat the sinusitis fatigue.
Quite frankly, I also take the caffeine pills so I can get out of bed and do what I either need or want to do. Between the 48 hours I actually worked and the 12 I spent driving to get to the 48 hours I worked this week, if I want Me time, it has to come out of time for sleep.
Plus, dumpster-diving makes me happy. I like getting good stuff for free.
No comments:
Post a Comment