Now that I’ve calmed down a bit, I’ll do some writing. I have the radio on to drown out the asshole that’s screaming on the phone.

Those fucking nurses! I’m sick of being woken up to be asked if I’m OK.

No, I’m not OK, you ass-wipes! Haven’t they figured that out yet?! It used to be they just wanted to see you move to make sure you were alive, but this one told me to say something, and I was like, “Now I have to say something, too?”

Well, I said something, all right!

Then the damn coffee cart came. Why the fuck do they have to make such a production out of the fucking thing? Can’t they just serve those who are awake and interested? Fucking greedy assholes!

I couldn’t fall back asleep. I was too pissed. And Tomaszewski’s on my shit list now, too. She fucking went out of her way to wake me up!

It’s change of shift now. It looks like Felix is on. Cool! I can call Tom. I really need his shoulder to cry on. First I was pissed and now I’m depressed. I really should’ve killed myself 5 months ago. I really should’ve. Every time I get ahead in life, it seems I just get set back. What’s the point in trying?

Talked to Tom, who helped calm me down and cheer me up at the same time with his words of encouragement. Doesn’t mean I believe him, though. I’m still not sure things will work out. I don’t believe shit till I see it. I’m a pessimist, remember?

Although I’ll miss seeing him twice a week, we agreed it’s best to use all our time on Tuesdays. We can’t see each other on Thursdays anymore, and Sundays are a zoo. So, we’ll have 4 more visits and I’ll have 4 more times where I’m stuck in that stuffy little closet waiting for rude DOs that are busy fucking around.

He’s going to put in $50 a week for the next 3 weeks, so I can have $30 for commissary and $20 for the coffee cart, even though it sometimes comes too early.

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We had that gross ostrich meat with real, but bland potatoes and rotten zucchini.

Felix gave me an extra donut. “Shhh,” she said.

It’s got to be a secret, but why did she give me an extra one anyway? Well, whatever the reason, that was very nice of her.

She keeps asking if I’m OK, too.

I must look pretty shitty.

Peaches and Sarah (the one that’s all skin, bones and tats) got into it, so Sarah moved in with Jamie.