so tired today.

it is so hot in my apartment. i do not have a fan and do not want to purchase one as it will just be one more thing to deal with when i leave in Vanuary.

I haven't slept in days, not a full sleep anyways. Last night there was a disturbance on my street. My next door neighbor had his bag stolen and was shouting very loudly about how he was going to find the bastard and shoot his fucking head off, or something to that effect. He was under my window while shouting this.

I panicked, of course, who wouldn't being woken up to that.

His friends squealed their cars into the lane and their was a commotion as they conversed loudly about some guy with a gray mustache on Maitland who had a bag just like it so they were going to go "take care of him".

This event took up at least an hour between the initial shouting and the cars taking off. There have been three murders within five blocks of me within the past two(ish) weeks. I feel like shit today and I am wondering how the new mother across the street is feeling. I wonder if I should try to have a conversation with her, instead of the occasional nod.

When I moved to this street, I was so excited cause it seemed like such a lovely quiet street. A friend told me she lived on this street and more than once woke up to find blood all over the street. I realized last night that I had been to a party here once before, back in the drinking days. Someone I knew went across the street to a party, now my neighbors house. She was harassed while there. I, being the weirdo that I am, went to defend her/get her ought of trouble. I almost got beaten up.

I have a problem. When I get nervous I get lippy. Really lippy. I am like a tiny dog, except big, so it isn't really funny to the other person. It has almost gotten me shot at least three times, really shot, with guns cocked and what not. It kinda sucks and it needs to stop.

So, why the ramble? I am hoping that I learn from this. I feel like I am going over the edge somehow, feel like getting drunk, you know? But I have to remember the baggage and history the drinking causes me.

Shit, I even have history with the new mother across the street.

whoosh, i feel much better.

trb.