Blah, Blah, Blah

I know I have to get up in 5 hours, but I don't want to go to bed.
I'm not going to pass Writing About Music this time around either.
I have a million things to do and not time to do them in and dammit I don't want to do them anyway. Who cares about a clean kitchen when I need to find out where I'm living in a month? Who cares about what I'm doing a month from now when I and depressed right now and want to take care of that?
I wish I could carry a book around on my neck that explains bipolarism so that I don't have to listen to people call me stupid, lazy, or a psycho bitch when they hear about shit I've done and make me question whether or not I really am wimping out and not fighting my hardest against it.
I wish I was smart enough to look at my calendar and not schedule a psych appointment and a counseling appointment on the same day, cuz those wear me out like nothing else does.

I wish I had time to curl up with a fantasy novel or a pack or cards and not feel guilty for doing that instead of something useful.
And I miss wearing makeup. Dumb, but true.
And I miss having the energy to run around and play.

But right now, I have to sleep.

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