I keep putting off helping BJ with his yard. I keep trying to explain to him I’m busy. I was cramming for the military exam and filming.

I’m starting that councillor class for school.

I have a million art projects I want to do.

I’m so tired after work some days I’ve fallen asleep sitting on the couch with my work boots on.

I need to talk to him. I’ve tried to. It’s hard when you are empathetic. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, I want to help him but I can’t keep feeling like this. He needs to realize I don’t have time like I used to.

“I build a home and wait for someone to tear it down
Then pack it up in boxes, head for the next town running
‘Cause I’ve got memories and travel like gypsies in the night”

It’s more the fact BJ is a horder and I’ve tried to tell him. He doesn’t see a problem. It’s difficult going to his house. It stresses me out. I want to help him but I’m getting worked up. I’m not one of his kids.

My place is a mess right now. It’s psychological. If it’s a mess I don’t have to be social and have people over. It’s a defense and I don’t know what I’m feeling defensive about.

I think part of it is I need a change in my life. I’m content but not “happy” and I have no reason to be unhappy or stressed out so badly.

Sometimes I feel like it’s not my life or my time. I’m going through the motions to make other people happy. I feel trapped sometimes.

This work contract is killing me with the commute. When you factor in travel time I’m making less than minimum wage. I love the nursery but I’m almost working for free.

I love Gordon Ramsey. He must have a cast iron stomach 🤢🤮