All Of My Days Have Been Misspent
For the past week, I have been at the house of hell. My friends have me on suicide watch because being trapped in that house for hours on end is wearing me thin. I sit on the couch for hours on end watching reruns of Judging Amy and MadTV cackling like Phyllis Diller on crack. The house is infested with ants. They crawl all over me while I am sleeping. The homeowner is psycho. She calls 19 times a day to check on her cats. She makes me sleep on the most uncomfortable couch ever. Last night I spent 7 hours crying because all I wanted to do was go home. I got 2 hours of sleep last night because I swear there are ants in my ear. Food has lost its taste. The red paint on the walls is starting to look like it is blood dripping from the dead bodies I am sure are stashed in the attic. I can't open the windows, for it is not allowed. The cats might escape. I can't eat food because it is covered with ants before it enters my mouth. All I smell is cheap cat food and cat urine. I am afraid to shower like a blonde at the Bates Motel. When I get my 3 hours of freedom a day, I envision driving as far away from there as I can. But alas I have to return because I am only allowed to be away from the cats for 3 hours at a time. I can't take it anymore. I am about to stab the cats and paint "Pig" on the walls ala the Manson Family. Right now, Courtney Love is more sane than I. Michael Jackson is a picture of mental health compared to me.
Is it Friday yet?
