Kurt Cobain sung “Sunday morning is everyday for all I care,” and that line really resonates with me. Lately I’ve had a heap of health appointments, so I’ve had to keep careful track of the days, but before this stretch I didn’t care what day it was. Was it Sunday or Wednesday? Each day felt entirely my own, and that’s the way I much prefer it. I dislike waking up knowing there’s something I absolutely have to get done, no matter how big or small. Lately I’ve been thinking about doing some volunteer work, but I’m not sure I could even manage that commitment right now.My illness limits what I can do. At least the thought was there. The time is 12:37 AM — early by my standards. I’ll hit the bed as soon as I finish this lengthy post. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, there are no neat paragraphs and one sentence often slides into a different topic altogether. As long as it makes a little sense, then I’m happy. When I saw the doctor the other day she was absolutely fantastic; she basically gave me the go‑ahead to keep using my vape. She was more concerned about cigarettes, hard drugs and alcohol. She told me I’ve already had enough medication changes and she didn’t want to take away the one thing I look forward to. I started back on energy drinks tonight too. I bought a four‑pack of 500 milliliters each because I wanted to treat myself. I have been sober for over five weeks now, which is going really well by the way. I’ve had no cravings and haven’t even thought about relapsing — the idea of it actually makes me feel ill. I just vape. That’s my only vice. and benzos. .Considering I almost died, I think the doctor figured, what’s the worst that can happen from puffing on a vape. I don’t feel so guilty about it now. I get to see my dog tomorrow — my half dog. He lives with my ex-girlfriend, but we bought him together and I try to walk him when I’m up to it. He’s a Golden Labrador and he’s completely deaf, so teaching him is almost impossible. We will go out for lunch too. We’re good friends even though she did break up with me. You can probably guess why that was… it was the poison I poured down my throat. She had a zero tolerance when it came to alcohol and she sent me on my way. I’m all too used to being evicted because of this. I wasn’t phased, she was in tears. I’m glad we’re friends. She has no friends, I have no friends, we’re into the same music, we enjoy our own company and she would go out of her way to help me. Totally different topic; I have never been a clean or organized person. The only condition Dad asked was that I keep my room spotless. I’m struggling. I have about five loads of washing; my bed pillows, dooner, and sheets need washing too. I’m going to make this my job for the day. I spend so much time, almost all day and night, in my room, so it’s bound to get somewhat messy. It wasn’t too much for Dad to ask, so I’ll honor his request. A Perfect Circle concert is approaching and I can’t wait. My only concern is my illness. I might have to load up on the benzodiazepines. I won’t go overboard because they cause memory loss and I want to take the whole experience in. I saw Tool last December, which was disappointing — not because of the performance but because there were no seats and I can’t spend hours on my feet. My partner in crime and I sat for most of it, only listening. Never again am I doing a festival. I’m too old for this anyway. The only reason we went was to see Tool. It’s okay; I’ve seen them over half a dozen times before..