Waiting For The Easier

So last night I got bitten. But only once. One bite. And I think I caught the fucker when I woke up. Squished it between my fingers and squirted my own blood all over the place. Called the exterminators and asked if that means that it didn't work, but they assured me that the chemicals need a week to truly kill them all. I am ... I feel ... I don't...

Fuck. Whatever. I would tell you that I am at my wit's end, but I have said that so many times now that I am obviously not because I seem to still be pulling wit out of my ass. But I am just so ... sad? I dunno. Fuck. Whatever. Stupid ass bedbugs. Stupid ass love. Stupid. Dumb. Stupid. Mother Fucker. Fuck.

(insert tempertantrum here)

At least this weekend we are co-facilitating a retreat out here for songwriters...check out the site...

Red Cedar Songwriting Camp

Cool to be around all these creative people walking around humming and creating and laughing and having the time of their lives. Must leave now, actually, to attend one of their evening concerts. Too bad happy people make me nauseous.

Ok, will write again soon, maybe when I have more to say than bitchbitchbitch, whinewhinewhine.