That’s what I feel like. I can’t be bothered to do much of anything. I woke up this morning, and thought to myself “I should install that outside light next to the side door to the garage”. It’s not a difficult project, I already put the switch in when I turned the door around, there’s power there, it’s just cut a hole in the siding, fish the wire, connect it, mount the light, and Bob’s your auntie.
Nnnnnnnope. Didn’t happen. Another project to piss and moan about.
I WANT to get out of here. I WANT to get all this crap organized and packed. I WANT to sell this place. I WANT to go back to Texas. I WANT to get it done NOW. But I go to try and do something, and I feel like I’m wearing a brick onesie. I can’t keep going like this. I need help, but have no one to ask. I need to fix this place up at least a little, but I really don’t want to spend the money on it. But I want to go home. Hell, I’ve found acreage that’s perfect back home. I WANT to be there.
I’m so f@#king sick of feeling like this. Anti-depressants aren’t helping me up, nor are they helping me sleep all that well. I can’t keep doing this. This is killing me.