08 September 2004 ~ Eight hours in a row...

Cranky and frustrated to the point of really needing to take a nice brisk stroll, despite the fact that I think it's still raining, and I'm already in my pajamas.

I haven't gotten an actual night's sleep in three or four days -- at this point, I've lost track. Always somebody needing attention. Always somebody needing to talk. Always somebody needing to slam a door, or yell during a game they're playing in the middle of the night. I've been getting by on naps, according to the whims of those around me. The naps have been nice, but my brain is fucking fried.

Part of me wants to be gracious about the whole thing and not say anything. But at this point, my inhibitions are lowered to the point where I'm very near to yelling at somebody. Perhaps several somebodies.

I'm not on the lease at the place where I'm living. I'm not technically a resident. I technically don't even have a bedroom, or a bed of my own. Actually, I don't really have anything of my own. Particularly privacy. I have no door to close when I want to sleep. I have no voice with which to say, "please fucking leave me alone; I'm tired and I need to sleep." I got two or three hours of sleep last night before my "bedroom" was needed for a heartfelt conversation about absolutely nothing.

I thought maybe I'd take a shower and wash some of the frustration down the drain before TRYING to retire this evening. But the moment I got out of the shower, there was a knock at the door. And then somebody ELSE wanting attention for half an hour or so. Out of self-preservation, I sat down to try to type up a journal entry, and I'm STILL getting TALKED AT. I'm not even responding anymore, and I'm still getting treated like a captive audience. I guarantee, if I were asleep, or nearly asleep, I'd be getting the same treatment. This can't be healthy. I feel like shit.

I just want to rest. I want to rest for eight hours. In a row.

Going for a brisk stroll now.

~Helena*