marie gets violently domestic part XXIV

[mehitabel]

i love and fear change. i love the metal kind, and i fear the kind that turns me into a total brat in anticipation of it. the metal kind is useful for when my cat pees on everything i own and i have to go to the laundromat. the other kind makes me think i need some professional help. it's really irritating, because there are several yoga and meditation studios within a block or so from my house, but i cannot afford anything like that right now. i stress about whether i have enough money to get across the river to get to work. and it's the stress that's killing me. i don't even know why i'm so stressed, except i feel like an inordinate amount of time was robbed from me. i'd rather have any amount of time over the money i could be making, which is why i am sitting here quietly typing away at a computer that is not mine. i freaked out on the kitchen last night, which was immaculate a week ago. i mopped the floor and cleaned out the fridge, and the remaining roommate not attached to the fucking televison set did all my dishes for me because i was sobbing on the floor, throwing out disgusting amounts of food. of course it was something like that that set me off; it's harder to throw out food when you know the people starving in your community. go figure.

there comes a point, after you've hardcored it out, when you just feel old and alone and completely completely useless. maybe you doubt me now. but just wait. wait and see.

(somebody shoot me.)