doc and i got into it when i woke up to some fucking loud war movie and announced i was never sleeping in the living room again. he won't get me a cable box for my room, which would solve the whole problem. i swear he's thick sometimes. but only sometimes. maybe tomorrow he'll call the cable company after my doctor's appointment.
i'm not going to ask about a group home, but i am going to have to ask for an adult day care program because we can't get the FMLA paperowork filled out for "a few visits" (Which are three months apart) according to my new doctor. and without doc being able to stay home with me, i'm going to need a daycare program to sit at while he's asleep. i hate my life. i don't know if i make that clear. but i really do hate my life. i am not valiantly struggling with my madness and being a creative genius about it. i'm just an average crazy person who hates everything about her life except maybe her dog and cats.