Let's do some simple addition, shall we? If on Wednesday I woke up at 12 pm, and went to bed at 5am the next morning, woke up at 8am that same morning, took an hour nap last night and an hour nap about forty-five minutes ago, by my calculations that mean I have received five hours of sleep in the past fifty hours, it being two o'clock Friday evening. That's forty-five hours I have been awake and moving, and five of rest. Not substantial. And let me tell you, I can feel the lack of sleep. And it feels like lots of confusion and sadness. But what did you expect? Me to sleep after all that? I can honestly say that is stupid. I have also smoked four packs of cigarettes in that span. Two last night. I am struggling today. While I was walking all over town last night I thought my lungs would burst. I went and made Lauren breakfast at seven this morning. She came downstairs really dreamy-eyed and bewildered, and I sang, "Here she comes, Miss America!" It was really wonderful. Then her dad came downstairs and I said, "Mornin' Sunshine!" He cracked a grin, which is pretty good for that surly old man. I had this dream in my - I just had to talk to this lady, because I'm at work right now, and it was very difficult. I felt really nervous, like I was high or something. - most recent nap, and it was really emotional, and I want to cry right now thinking about it. I dreamt that my dearest friends read my journal and were making fun of it because they didn't know it was mine, and they thought it was childish and dumb. I don't even know how to deal with that. I woke up and thought it had all really happened. I still kind of feel that way. Today is a sad day, which was preceded by a sad night, Thursday itself was okay, just brief fits of frustration and sadness. Wednesday, if I remember correctly was blissful. Today is not a good day. Today is not fine. I am not fine. I was attempting to move my car, so that I didn't get a parking ticket, and noticed I had a flat tire. "Awesome," I thought. My body is full of tar. I remember being about six years old, and I had done something wrong, and my mom was scolding me, and I said, "I hate myself." She spanked me a lot of times for that. I don't know, just a blip in my brain right now.