I've had the second shitty night in a row and that sort of thing is never good for me. My spoons are at a minimum. My entire day is going to be "Can't be arsed, gotta do it anyway" with a side order of slow, uncomfortable moaning.
Good thing Steam Powered Giraffe is there to help my limited powers of concentration and at least keep me in the same plane of reality.
Also good thing - Beloved has taken a shine to taking the kids to school in the mornings, which means I won't need my abomination of caffeine until I start falling asleep where I sit. Yay.
Bad news - Beloved may have had an easy time convincing Chaos to go to bed with just warm milk, but my experiences have been... less productive. I'm going to have to go to the quack and get another prescription for her melatonin and tell them that it looks like an extended Thing.
I don't want to have to scrape up breakfast. I don't want to have to take all my pills. I don't want to edit, today. I don't want to do anything but sleep and fart around.
BUT I have to be a professional about this and drag myself slowly onwards towards my ultimate goal of being a PAID author. As in regularly paid author. Roughly $2.21 a week doesn't pay for bread nor eggs. [Fact check: I sold The Amity Incident thrice over the last seven days, so my earnings are roughly $6.63 - barely enough to buy a dozen eggs. Assuming I could actually tap it directly]
I wish I had someone to look after me. Make sure I get good food and take my pills and otherwise look after my meat suit. And someone to clean up the messes for me because that shit is disheartening.
Don't mind me. I always wind up in a funk when I'm tired off my arse. It's payday today. We can get eggs and poppas and milk and all the little things that make life liveable. Which included meds to help Chaos sleep at night.
There's three of us taking stuff to help us sleep. My poor little darlings have both inherited my ideosyncratic sleep cycle and I wouldn't wish that hell on Scabbott. Maybe on Trump. He seems like he'd deserve it.
Throw money my way. I will personally tell Trump that he's a fuckface. All I need is plane fare to the US, transport to wherever he's dumping bullshit into a microphone, bail money for after, and accommodation and food along the way.