Defining Moments of My Life
Sleeping 9-5, what a way to make a living

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Sleeping 9-5, what a way to make a living
01.16.03 5:28 p.m.

I pretty much just woke up. Who needs the sun anyway? Although one of my psychologists once said that the sun is the only way to get some certain vitamin and also the sun is required for saratonin or dopamine or one of those chemicals my raisin of a hypothalmus doesn't make.... So maybe I should sleep outside.

I had a dream that I was in high school but it looked more like a community college, there were open areas and classes were in different buildings. I had changed for gym but my boots were too big for my gym locker so I left them under the bench. After gym class they were gone. Me and my best-friends Pink and Kelly Osbourne (for real!) were helping me check out everybody's feet in the hallways. I spotted my boots from a long way off and when my eyes scrolled up the body they were on was Avril Lavigne. My groups of friends made easy work out of her friends (skinny bitches and emo boys). Avril said she couldn't help it, my boots were so punk rock!


Always remember to quit while you're ahead.

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About Me
I am a bipolar genius, child abuse & addiction survivor, who is now a single mother who works 70 hours a week and has had gastric-bypass weight loss surgery a year ago. Wish me luck cuz I need it!!!

Examples of My Insanity
Dead On Mental Health Quiz
Tuna Noodle Casserole Story
Explaining Myselves
Biting Off Redneck's Finger
Got So Crazy Scratched Til I Bled
How I Found Nirvana
Leaving Lon After 7 Years
Bad Luck On 3 July 4ths
Random Craziness (FBI Please Disregard)
How I Ended Up A Junky
Almost Getting Raped by a Marine
Typical Weekend in Ohio
How Cobain Saved My Life


How long could we maintain? I wondered. How long until one of us starts raving and jabbering at this boy? What will he think then? This same lonely desert was the last known home of the Manson family; will he make that grim connection when my attorney starts screaming about bats and huge manta rays coming down on the car? If so, well, we'll just have to cut his head off and bury him somewhere, 'cause it goes without saying that we can't turn him loose. He'd report us at once to some kind of outback Nazi law enforcement agency and they'll run us down like dogs. Jesus, did I say that? Or just think it? Was I talking? Did they hear me?


AFTER


WHAT'S MY NAME?!?