My weekend was not too terribly productive.
I did finish my laundry, and I did a huge stack of dishes.
I sat in front of my blank word program and stared at my Nano project with increasing sorry and dismay. I can't seem to get going. It's the 7th of November. This is not good.
Finally, I decided I would kill my ex-Principal. You know, the prick bastard who was so horrible to me that it actually fucked up the chemical components of my brain, causing me to get clinically depressed--a condition that I've battled constantly since then.
So, at about 9:45 last night, I wrote a short entry--which you can see below, if you look. i think I will write this from a student's point of view. Every teacher in the school will have the motive to kill him, as well as 98% ot the school population and the community. (Just like in real life.)
I have no idea who will be the guilty party. Perhaps I'll have him discovered with seven different kinds of poison in his body as well as fatal knife, gun, and golf club wounds and make it so at least 15 different people were trying to do him in.
And at last it succeeded.
Bwa ha ha ha.
"Brad Royce" dies horribly. As he deserves. (Fictionally only, of course)
I have an appointment at the clinic today. I haven't done a thing that I was supposed to do after the last time I was there.
So, who knows what my results will be.
It's sad, but I really just do not care.
I have to get over this uncaring attitude about my health. Diabetes is a serious disease. It could kill me.
BUT--I just can't make myself CARE.
With all the fucking bills I have to pay, coupled with my lack of money to pay them, death seems like a viable alternative.
Bleah.
Not really.
But SOMETIMES....SOMETIMES....it just seems like the easiest way.
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