I must not forget:

All I want right now is a bottle of vodka and a bottle of narcotics.
I don't even want to be alive anymore.
I want to get so fucked up that I forget how to breathe.

I fucking hate Christmas. I say Merry Christmas and try to be nice because I know that's what God wants. But all the holidays bring is a reminder of how fucked up my family is, and how fucked up my life is.

And now, I have a full month to do nothing but stay in bed and work. Because guess who doesn't have any friends. Okay, that's a lie. Except Chiari doesn't live here, and neither does Katie. Brittany doesn't understand--and even if she did, she won't be around for the next two weeks anyhow.
Tony and Chris are involved in their own situations and the only time they ever want to hang out is when they get sick of me texting them.

If this is what having friends is like, fuck it. At least my dogs pretend they are excited to see me.