Maybe I'm just like my mother-she's never satisfied

Haven't written much of the day to day, because I do the same thing every day.

Wake up, fall into shorts, take Jack out, feed him, sit at a computer until 5pm. Walk Jack, feed Jack. Feed myself. Take a bath. Go to bed. Went to a birthday party on Sunday for Mom. Spent my weekend cleaning an already spick and span apartment and sleeping some more. Walked around Lafreniere Park on Monday morning. I'm almost done with Roseanne.

Been in class for Preservice certification since Tuesday. They're teaching me registration. From the ground up. Today, I learned how to make a therapy appointment. Go, me. Also went to Driftwood to pick up my old badge. It felt good to see everyone and get hugs. That was literally almost a month ago now and it feels like it was in the last century.

Taxact messaged me today saying my $600 stim will be deposited on 2/1. Which will be a relief, since that means I can keep my lights on.

Suann Laqueur posted on my Instagram that she's been thinking about me. What. the. fucksicles.

stuff.

and things.

Feeling guilty and missing someone are two different sides of the same coin. The guilt is a shitshow, but missing someone is murder when your head keeps hissing that you have no right to. I can't even say it or think it or type it without feeling like the world's biggest asshole. And there's no way to say that without looking like a martyr. I'm all out of solutions here so I'm going take a bath.