First, my computer dies.

Actually, no, first I get sick. I feel a little better, over the weekend, and then on Monday I feel like absolute shit by lunchtime at the program, and so I explain how I feel and ask to go home. I go home.

I wake up Tuesday stuffed up and headachey and generally feeling shitty, so I don't go to the program. My computer dies.

I wake up today feeling a little better, but not much. I call Vistas/my therapist and tell them I won't be at the program today and then I have a shower. I feel a little better after the shower, probably thanks to blowing my nose so hard that my throat hurt even more.

(I've been drinking a lot of hot tea, btw. It helps my throat soooo much...)

I go and get a new computer with dad, kind of dragging my feet and unngh but this is the only way I'll be able to get one and fuck it you know? So I have a new computer now. Yaaay.

Then my therapist calls and pretty much gives me a hard time because I sounded okay when I answered the phone but I kind of didn't sound okay by the end of the conversation.

Like I was acting. Like I was fucking acting trying to get out of the fucking program. What the fucking fuckity fuck. Ffff I can't even finish this entry.