Day Fourteen: GGRRRR!!!!

*AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!*

There. That's better. Ok. My health? Deteriorating. My mind? Deteriorating too. My novel? Well... deteriorating. We're into week 3 and I'm just tired as hell. I woke up with the first inklings of what must be the onslaught of a cold. My throat is coated and I can't seem to unclog it. My nose is on and off, dry and running like a damn faucet. And my hearing is impaired, from stuffy ears. This all sucks ass. And on top of that, I'm still gnashing my teeth about my guestbook.

Yesterday, I had to get on the phone and be less than my polite and courteous self. I called my aunt and basically had to be nasty. She didn't answer, so I left a message, and there was no question as to whether or not I was pissed. Now, if you chop this up and bust it down, it doesn't make sense that I had to do that. It just doesn't. Now, she's having her personal problems, which she explained to me on the phone, screaming and yelling about 'no one asking how she was doing'. One of her claims as to why she didn't respond to me, was that her phone was off. Now how the FUCK was I supposed to find out 'how she was doing' if I couldn't even get in touch with her ass? The punchline is we're still on shaky land about how the hell I'm going to get my stuff. But mark my words, my brother is supposed to drop by her house this weekend to pick up the box. If he can't get it, I'll give up on that method. I'm coming down there. And I'm not there to fight. I'm there to get my shit and leave. That's it. My writing is suffering from all this unnecessary aggravation. I'm sincerely bone weary and tired as hell.

Enough is enough.