Leslie asked me if I was watching Breaking Bonaduce. You may be shocked to find out I watched two episodes and just couldn’t take it. Yes, I actually STOPPED watching a crappy reality TV show. (I did the same with Being Bobby Brown) I find Danny Bonaduce to be incredibly irritating and feel like he’s always acting. That coupled with the fact that the show is a train wreck and makes me feel awful is why I can’t watch it. It’s not entertaining. It’s sad and negative and He’s a mess. A total and complete mess.

The insomnia is taking over and it’s starting to piss me off. I slept for about 2 hours last night. I went to bed at 9:30 but didn’t fall asleep until about 3.  It was a hard day and as the day wore on, it got worse. I was so tired and achy that it literally hurt to have someone too close to me touching my skin. To make matters worse it was my sweet little girl who was climbing all over me and I had to keep telling her she could sit next to me but not right up against me. It didn’t come out that eloquently though. It was more like “GET. OFF. ME.” I was so irritable. SO irritable. I put Finn to bed an hour early. Changing him into his pajamas was similar to changing a tire as far as the energy I was expending. Energy that I just didn’t fucking have. I took 3 pain pills because I wanted to be knocked out after I put Hadley to bed. That’s the worst part…being SO tired and achy and all I want to do is sleep. And I can’t. Blah. On top of that Peter had to pull an all nighter at work so he wasn’t here. I don’t sleep well when he’s not here anyway…

I gave his house key to Taylor so I told him I’d leave the door open. (Thinking he’d get home at 1am or something) When I came downstairs with Finn this morning at the ass crack of dawn, the front door was open. WIDE FUCKING OPEN. The wind must have blown it open. I didn’t do that thing where you freak out and think “I could have been robbed! I could have been raped!” I just shut the door. I feel like shit and my throat hurts again.

They say to read if you can’t sleep. Not to lay there and fret about it.So I started reading A Million Little Pieces last night.  It is horrific, brave, heartbreaking, honest, amazing and so up my alley. I blew through a hundred pages. I’m already excited to read the follow up My Friend Leonard. I don’t know what draws me to something that is so far from anything that I have ever known. I’ve said it before though. This is my genre: fucked up non-fiction. Frey’s writing is intoxicating and I am taken in by the bravery and survival. I will forever be interested in other people’s stories.

I’m going to try to nap…again.