I didn't make it to Mom's on Sunday. I was pretty tired, and unable to sleep from pain until early Sunday morning, then crashed until 9PM. My answering machine was full of messages from Mom and one of my brothers. If they were worried, they have a key to my place FFS. They also could have brought me some food or something, all I have here is the stuff to make Mom's dinner on Wednesday, and it's too hot for me to go out. And I'm broke until next month.
Whatever, not their problem...
I tried to sew a little and only got two rows of nine finished. My feet are still horrible, and I feel sick otherwise, too. Mentally, physically, I'm a mess. And I feel like nobody on the Earth gives a crap unless I'm not showing up with the fucking Jello.Even my oxygen delivery guy is leaving me until Aug 1 because he's going on vacation, and the company has nobody else to cover my route. I'm stuck with a noisy, sputtering concentrator, and just enough liquid to fill portables in case I do leave the house.
Once again, the universe reminds me that I am worthless.
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