silence sorts many things out. many.

and my nose is still running, my ears are clogged, my bedside table is piled a foot high with antibiotics, i have to get up at six tomorrow morning and i don't want any part of tomorrow to happen. life? i'm not lovin' it right now.

i am tired. i don't care.
this is ridiculous.
i mean, will i go through the next few decades of my life feeling miserable every sunday evening, barring maybe a few?
i need a job with a three-day weekend. or independent wealth.