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1:10 p.m. | Thursday, Sept. 26, 2002
Day Six Day 6: Sept. 22nd I'm so tired. I hate this place. At 8 o'clock this morning I woke up because I needed to roll over and go to the bathroom. After I pushed the call bell it took half an hour for someone to answer and a further 10 minutes to actually get these things done. Every morning my machine beeps around 8am and it takes forever for someone to show up. It's very hard to have a decent sleep this way. I hate to think what would happen if I had an emergency. After half an hour it probably wouldn't matter anymore if they showed up or not. I couldn't sleep until after 2am, I think all the caffeine from the chocolate and vanilla coke is getting to me. Plus I've been having tea every day at lunch. Qui would be so proud. I wonder if my chocolate cravings will be over once I get home. I still haven't had a chocolate milkshake and I�ve wanted one for three weeks already. Morrison has tried to get me one but both times the machine at the place he went to was down. It's a conspiracy against me I tell you. I just went to the bathroom and my underwear is now all twisted and my pants pulled up way too far. The tops of my socks are showing. I even had them lift me again to fix my pants, but some people are so stupid about things. They are rough and unthinking and laugh when you say they have done things wrong and then barely make an effort to fix things. It's so frustrating. It would be much nicer if I could choose who takes care of me. There is a guy living here at Parkridge that I got to know a little bit when I lived here before. Everyone that worked here joked that he had a crush on me. He�s nice but we don't have anything in common really. I saw him today; he came into my room to visit. He hasn't been doing very well at all. When I met he was confined to his wheelchair and couldn't move much below his neck (I think he has muscular dystrophy). In the summer he got a stomach tube because he could no longer eat enough food to get adequate nutrition. It is so hard to talk to him; he has lived in Parkridge for twelve years. I can't imagine living here that long and staying sane. I think I�d just commit suicide. Living in these tiny rooms and having barely any use of your body... it scares me that I might end up like that someday. I think he got a correspondence course degree in travel/tourism. He's on welfare and won't be able to travel to any of the places he has studied. *sigh* this place is far too depressing. Everyone does NOT love Raymond.
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This is my blogchalk:
Canada, Saskatchewan, Saskatoon, , English, , Female, 26-30, Reading.