God, my head hurts. It hurts worse than I can recall it ever hurting.
Two weeks. Two weeks sober and I don't necessarily want to kill anyone, but the thought is occasionally there. Even if I'll never follow through on it.
Plus, it's late, and I can't sleep, thanks to the sounds of a child keening and in general refusing to fall asleep. Because, see, it bears mentioning that I don't actually have a lease right now. I'm renting, well, essentially couch space from a single mom. Don't remember what she does for a living, but I've taken care of her little girl a few times in the past few weeks. Cute kid, but I'm not one for children. And right now, she's screaming.
So I'm awake, and bitter, and afraid to open the blinds. And to top it all off, for whatever reason, I can't access the internet. I've tried, more than once. If I do manage to get it working, I'll probably only fire off this post and then try to sleep again.
Starting to wonder if Nick is ever coming home. I just don't know.