Notes to Cindy: The Archives

Well, I didn't end up writing or editing anything last night. Jasper woke me up at two in the morning to help him clean up cat shit. His cat, Oreo, decided to have a fit and peed and shit all over the placce. Even with half a can of Glade, the smell is still overwhelming. Feeling both sick and depressed, I slept the entire day away. Even now, I feel too shitty to write, but I've slept too long to continue sleeping, and there is nothing else to do. I'm struggling to cope. The physical symptoms are weighing me down with lethargy, dizziness, fatigue, muscle aches, joint aches, nausea, and a slight headache. As far as emotions go, I'm just suffering from the typical bout of clynical depression. Oh, and I can also add eye irritation, scratchy throat, and congestion to the physical symptoms. All in all, I just feel like shit. I promised Anya, before she left, that I wouldn't do anything stupid, but if this keeps up, there's no telling what will make me snap. I don't know what I'm going to do. I was correct yesterday, when I said that it's like being in the hospital again. In fact, it's a whole lot worse. With no internet, neither Anya nor I can fill out job applications. I have no transportation for a job and no way for one to call me to set up an interview. I have no choice other than considering an alternative living situation. I have three possible options: Baylee, Anthony, or my father. Tomorrow, I'll have to convince Jasper to let me use his computer to consider these and search for others. On top of everything else, it's raining and it's a full moon.