I still don't -- it's just when I'm trying to go to sleep that I have problems.  Lying in bed and having my sense of despair pound me like waves during a storm, it's a little worse than having the bed bugs bite.  It feels tangible, and no matter how much I try to curl myself up in my sheets and how tight I shut my eyes, I can't stave it off. 

And then I go to sleep and wake up 10 hours later and wonder who turned out the lights in my room, and if Ray was a pal and transferred my jeans from the washer into the dryer (he didn't). 

So I went home last nite, and wasn't in the mood to watch Buffy, which is a shame because it sounded like a good episode from the radio ads I heard.  The plots in Buffy are very comic book-ish.  What happens when the hero loses her powers?  Or an old, love-torn villian returns for revenge?  And there's the ever-popular What if such-and-such didn't happen and a nightmarish world ensued.  Since I quit comic books cold turkey back in September, I try to avoid even looking at em' or going to the old sights I used to visit for fear that I'd go back to them.  Maybe Buffy is one ancilla I'm using to get over it. 

Cigarettes are probably another.

God, I'm hating work.  Too much work for this boy.  Work, Hamburger Day and Camels don't do much for one's heart, that's for damn sure.

Shit, Akiyo's brother, who's still in school and not even working full time just bought a new, fully loaded Civic.  I could get that if I didn't have such shitty credit.  Fuck. Why does my life have to be fully of complaints?  Because I've irrevocably screwed it up.  Time of my life, that's what this should be.  It's nothing but hell.

I don't know what I'm ever gonna do.

See?  Cigarettes help relieve stress.  Light up today!