Work was actually okay. The new guy hasn't decided to cop an attitude yet.

It was mellow.

When I got home, the fun started. My sister looks pretty pale and tired. It's because of my parents. They were okay until about an hour ago, and then dad started slamming things around again, even though the baby was asleep.

My sister got all sick and nervous and went to bed. I'm still awake and it's midnight.

All I ate today was half a bowl of oatmeal and a granola bar, and they wonder why I'm nearing ninety-nine pounds.

I joked about it at work, saying that if I lost another two I could be invisible, and they wouldn't know if I was at work or not.

I'm sure they've noticed that when I go on lunch, I smoke a cigarette and then sit in a chair with my iPod on instead of eating. It might be nice to have enough money to bring a lunch, but I don't.

They've stopped asking me if they can bring me something back when they go.

I can see my ribs in the front and back.

Hey, how many supermodels can say that?

The new top I bought at the thrift store when I got my daughter's new clothes (taken from the money he accidentally left in the bank that still isn't being turned into child support) hangs off my body like a sheet, even though it's a very small size. I thought I'd have to lose weight to fit into it, because I'm still in the pregnancy-weight mindframe even though I've lost all the weight and more.

Part of it is that when there is a little food around, I feel guilty for eating because my family doesn't do that particular activity often.

Another part is that when there's food, they make me feel sick before dinner by letting me know how much they hate each other and can't wait to get divorced (or just by slamming things around).

Most of it is money. Never enough money.

I'm sure people at work think I have an eating disorder, or something. People in the Army did, and back then I actually looked like a human being.

I really liked that top, but now it makes me a little sick to see myself in it.

I should just go to bed. I have work again tomorrow, like every day. Another day of pretending to be in a good mood in an environment where I'm afraid to open my mouth because someone will cut me down.

Where I'm afraid to do my job because the rules aren't always clear and I'm the only one who gets in trouble for making a judgment call.

I'm so, so tired.