At least once each day, I pause to weep. My life fits a little close around the midsection. It gets uncomfortable by the evening.
I want to stop living this way. I can't stop. I'm active in my addiction. I hate all its effects on my life, and I can't stop.
Tuesday is my worst day of the week. It makes me fussy. I came home and there was yelling. It wasn't yelling at me, but my ears are too tired for yelling tonight.
