Sitting at home, still on the couch, waiting for my mother to come home and make me miserable again. Not her fault, of course. But I'm already miserable just being here by myself. I need to pick up all of this dirty laundry, go back to the continuing project of cutting my hair, and maybe get some food. At least my mother coming back will mean I have some guaranteed food coming into this apartment.

More distressing dreams last night, not that I can remember them, but the sex drive stuff has sort of subsided, I think. Okay. Plan for the rest of the late morning....clean up my various messes (dishes, laundry, candy wrappers, etc.), cut my hair, and then go back to sleep. I'm still feeling sleep deprived and not at all confident that I can end that feeling without the help of some pills. Wednesday is my appointment for dealing with medications and I really hope she does the sort of thing I want her to. Basically, give me something to try instead of what I've been using that hasn't been working. Gunning for Lexapro, Wellbutrin, and Tramadol.

I'm really enjoying this blogging thing, actually. Kind of a way of just getting everything out. Except that I have the wonderful privacy of not being connected to any of my friends. I do occasionally wonder if any of them have found this. I mean, the username isn't a usual one for me, but I haven't put in any effort to hide any of the facts of my life. Fuck it, even if they find this, the fact that they shouldn't have read it will hopefully keep them from ever mentioning it, which is really the point.

Completely random thought: if Richard Hammond enjoys sex anywhere as much as he enjoys driving cars, he must be a great fuck. I think I'm developing a slight crush. Hammond and Owen Harper are pretty much the current ones. I swear, I've started to be much more attracted to guys than girls. While I simultaneously start to want to present much more male than female. So I'm turning into a gay man? Or something. I wonder if any of my sexual desires can be even counted, considering how transitory and capricious they are these days. I hate to say it, but they do seem to reveal certain things about me. You know, older men when I need protection and guidance, young cocky men and women when I feel like I need envigorating. Or something like that.

Okay, time to implement all of this planning that I've mentioned. I have officially two hours to clean up and cut my hair and then hide in bed for when my mother arrives. All the while entertained by the sounds of Top Gear. Oh, I forgot to mention Hodgins from Bones. He's yet another short, cocky, cynical male that I have a bit of a crush on.