Day After

I woke up around 1 or two. I probably forgot my sleeping pills last night. Tim was crashed out on the couch, Pupple wanted to go out, and I figured that would be a good time to leave my door open so LMF could use the litter box in peace if she needed. She laid under the covers with me when I got back, but it eventually became clear I was going to need a sleeping pill to get back to sleep. I waited with her for a while, not wanting to disturb her, but finally did have to get up for it.

When Tim woke, he noted how awkward it must have been for Colleen to have my usual depressive talk, and also commented on the drastic effect my pills have, and how surreal it is to watch it in action. He was concerned about my desperation to get "high enough," and insistent that my high THC tolerance is due to using too much. Never mind that it started almost exactly where it is, or that weed is a fairly low cost out for my addictive personality. I finished the dishes, then sat down to smoke that same weed. He did also note the concerned look Colleen featured when I mentioned my carts are around 90% THC already. He did comment on my extreme pessimism, every time there's a note for me, or Lady Miss Friday meows, I wonder what I've done wrong now. Some of that is a defense mechanism.

I struggled with what to do in the evening, and ended up drinking.