(no subject)

I really want to write about Hallowe'en, but right now, all I can write about is how drained and put-upon I feel. I had to take the past two days off from work because I just feel so run down, plus I think I'm fighting a virus, but that hasn't given me anything remotedly close to a break. My mother seems to think this means she can bug me about every bit of minutiae imaginable until I'm ready to scream at her. I just want to be left alone, but alone is lonely. I just want to be with someone who won't ask anything of me, but who will tell me that I matter, that I'm not just down here for everyone to lob little jobs at until I feel lik Cinderella waiting on her ugly stepsisters. I just want to curl up in a ball in a corner and howl. My only refuge is in sleeping, but I really don't enjoy sleeping. Never did. It just never appealled to me, but of course my mother seems to think that sleep is the great cure-all. If that were the case, narcoleptics must be the picture of health.