It's 1:30 in the morning

And I can't sleep. I can't make myself sleep. I know that as soon as I lay my head on the pillow I could be asleep, so perhaps it's not insomnia. But I can't sleep. I have so much to do. So much I want to do. The thoughts..and idea rush in and out of my thoughts and sleepiness makes everything so hazy.

My vision is blurry. I feel lost. I've just spent an hour pleasuring myself, just to get enough endorphins in my system in order to encourage myself to finish folding laundry. It's snowing outside. There's someone shoveling at 2 am. I've dropped my wicker pencil box and there's dozens of them scattered all over my living room/bedroom floor.

More things to do. Am I going to sleep tonight? I feel a sinus infection coming on. My immune system is crashing. My thoughts feel alien. I've put myself through the looking glass and sideways reverse, if that illustrates the level of introspection I've subjected myself through since my ex walked out of my life. I feel more cold, more...ruthless. However, the naivete is still there. Vanity longs for my former lithe figure, but the extra bakery pounds served as a wake up call.

I am still the goddess hovering beneath the surface, alone in the universe, unsure, but hesitation is no longer a viable option...

I want to be active but I'm restricted, I grow weary, restless, angry.

I'm tired. I'm so tired. I want to sleep so badly...but I cannot.

I can remember having troubles falling asleep since the age of 13. I sat up blurry eyed through many a paranoia-filled night, dreading sleep, starring at the ceiling until 3 in the morning, trying to stave off nightmares.

I haven't had a healthy regular sleep pattern in since my daughter was born. She's been able to sleep through the night since six months of age...but it comes on and off.

Mostly when I'm stressed. I sleep well in the weekends, go figure. Still have troubles falling asleep, but once I do, just knowing I don't have to wake up early the next morning fills my body with an ease that lasts until the work week resumes.

10 hours of work per day cannot be sustained on less than 5 hours of sleep a night. I'm trying to function. I'm breaking down emotionally. My will to conform is slowly being chipped away at by pure exhaustion and frustration at the repetitiveness of my workdays...that being said, I have the most understanding bosses. So I stay.

I waste the hours away listening to Psychology and Permaculture lectures. Alex Grey, Terrence McKenna, Howard Zinn, I want to run off to the woods and be an anarchist, grow my own pot and learn how to kill my namesake with a bow and arrow, I want to awaken the inner cro-magnon and shed my slave garb! ARGH!!!

I don't know if I'm going to be able to stay in this town for much longer, but this exit has to be carefully planned. I've got a little one now. I have to make sure we're safe at all times. I have to find shelter. I have to find a new job.

I intend on heading out to Nelson this January just to start laying the groundwork for my little Fawn and I moving there at the beginning of June. I've checked out UHAUL prices...and things are not looking pretty. I might just ride out of this town by the seams of my pants but just getting out alone, even if it means ending up sleeping in my car while in Nelson, still gives me so much hope I push myself to wake up every morning to go to work.

One day closer to getting out of this fuck hole.One step closer to a new beginning.

I hope they don't have bears.

I would also like to get a tattoo but Lord knows I can barely afford groceries right now. Working all those hours, seeing nothing from it. I'm getting sick of that.

It's 2 am. I have to get up at 6:30.

I keep running into that girl's 'boyfriend', the girl I ran into at Alfie's apartment. Supposedly they're just living together, and have ended their relationship. Stupid little Alfie. Haven't you heard that tale before? I know what it's like to live with someone you're no longer with...you can't stand each other but once in a while the throes of passion takes a hold of both of you and you succumb to need, anger, desperation, one last time.

I recognize the look in her boyfriend's eyes. I play coy, and remain aloof. It feels nice knowing I still have that effect on men. But I do not want any more drama in my life. I am a working mother and my cause is sacred! I recognize my role in the patriarchal society I am functioning in. As a single mother, I'm expected to rise above some inherent flaw that led to me finding myself single in the first place. I should learn to be more submissive, compliant, obedient. Oh and I am to shed any carnal aspect of my self, and don on the Madonna's cloth: ascetic, asexual, filling up the financial void the absent parent has left behind him.

I'm far too busy and sleep-deprived to seek any kind of revenge against Alfie and I don't think much of/about her...but once in a while the anger bubbles over and I can't help but feel a little wicked...