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March 11, 2006,
3:08 p.m.
Selfish, moody prick
Been sleeping much more than usual lately but only now has it begun to bother me, as if sleep is bad. I arrived home yesterday afternoon and decided the house felt stuffy so opened the doors and windows to allow the rainstorm to air out the dank, and I laid down on my bed to listen to the rain. I woke up this morning around 4:30, with the doors still wide open and the house absolutely frigid but aired out. I'm disappointed that I took my family's lukewarm response towards my book so personally. I hate to admit that I've been hoping for a turnaround of any type, a minor gesture or something grand like a I'm proud. And simply writing that, I'm ashamed to confess I haven't been able to let this disappointment slip away and be done. I'm hanging onto it and being dragged down like a stupid brat unhappy at not getting his way. Non-sequitur or ipso facto, your choice: I feel more alone than ever before. It bothers me. So all in all, unmotivated to do much. I'll snap out of it sooner or later.
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