she's slacking off again on this damn project, waiting on me to pick up the pieces. i told her no i refuse and have my own things to do. i'm mentally and physically exhausted and don't want to look at computer code. the stress is making me hurt again and i'm fiending for painkillers >_< i have enough for a bottle of cognac. i might get some and just hide in my room with the lights off and ac on blast... i wish people didn't talk to me. they never have nice things to say.
i already feel like shit because i can't move these damn books. i just have to accept most people are stupid. i can't be a shit writer if nobody fucking reads.