It’s come to this

With my screwy sleep schedule (i.e., only getting shut-eye when Thundercunt and Big Giant Pussy and their lead-footed brats can shut the fuck up for more than 20 minutes at a time), I missed a meeting today.

I was driving to the office at the time and could have signed in, but it was raining and honestly my brain wasn’t fully on anyway.

I was just really surprised to have three different people ask if I was OK. My boss, especially, was concerned. Because, neighbors.

You know, it’s sad that it has come to this — that me not being available/alert round-the-clock is pretty much 100% caused by the screwballs upstairs threatening me and making every moment I’m alive pure hell.

But it does my heart good that someone knows I walk around with pepper spray, I fear walking to my car (whether I’ll be attacked or that they tampered with it) and that I’m on edge ALL THE TIME … and that he would know exactly at whom to point the finger if so much as a hair is found out-of-place on me.

It just breaks my heart that it’s come to this.

I booked another weekend away. You should see my savings. It’s toast, buying all these damn hotel rooms. But the price of sleep — at the expense of someone else’s kids/family when I don’t have one of my own (oh, and FUCK THAT) — is worth the cost right now.

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