Fuck you, 2409

It is past 1 a.m.  The lunatics are screaming again

Mom keeps taking mini strokes. The cat needs Prozac. I nod off at my desk. 

I sleep in on weekends now. They can scream for six or eight hours before they pass out. 

I lose my whole day on Sundays. But it beats being up and trying to work on two hours’ rest (nightmares notwithstanding).

I cannot have dumbfuckery. Cannot. Cannot. This place costs too motherfucking much. Wonder if I can get evicted for complaining too much?

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