No matter what I do, I am wrong. There is no getting around the fact that I am different than they are; and it’s not acceptable. I can work myself to the brink and still there is a space between what I’ve done and what “they” expect. I’m a set up for failure.
It’s so cold in the house and I raise the heat but it does nothing to warm me. I dread tomorrow and wish that I could sleep my week away. Thank God for my sweet dog, the only pure love in my life.
If I close my eyes, there is no question that I could be asleep in minutes. But where? He is spread out on MY sofa. I sit at the dining room table folded into myself for warmth. If I sneak into bed – the room of ice – no doubt that my sweet dog would begin to cry. He still needs dinner and a walk; nobody else would care for him.